Cradle
by theharshlightofday
Summary: After Egypt it felt like death was stalking Lara Croft from the shadows, and in the labyrinthine streets of Prague grave secrets shall be revealed and blood shall be spilt. The battle for eternal life begins after sunset. Dark post-AoD. LCxKT.
1. Masquerade

_It feels completely surreal to finally be posting this, since I got the original idea for this story from a dream I had over _•six• _years ago. Yes, I am a ridiculously slow writer. But life also kept on getting in the way. Needless to say, it took me a heck of a lot of hard work and grind to finish this story and it would mean the world to me if people took the time to read and review! This story is already complete and will be posted in eight parts over the coming weeks, so no need to fret over the abdundance of evil cliffhangers to come, muhaha :D  
_

_As always characters do not belong to me. I must warn you that there will be lots of language, graphic violence and sex in this story, but what would be the fun if there wasn't? And although I did a heck of a lot of research I have yet to visit Prague myself, so I apologize for any inaccuracies in its depiction. Enjoy!_

**XX****X**

_The darkness drops again but now I know_

_That twenty centuries of stony sleep_

_Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle.  
_

W.B. Yeats.

**XX****X**

This was not the England of her memory.

Lara missed the rolling hills and the sinking valleys cut into row after row of patchwork squares. All she saw now was the overcast sky, and the gentle specks of rainwater which gathered on the window only to fade away and leave behind her own blank expression. Lara Croft was not the woman she used to be; everything she once knew and loved had passed away. After Egypt every day, every hour had felt like a gamble, like death was stalking her from the shadows. But now she knew that her greatest danger came from within, for two years of her life may have passed but she was still in love with the darkness.

Early that morning she had returned home from that business in Prague to find the rain descending like some portent of impending doom. It only became worse as she climbed into a waiting cab outside Heathrow and pressed a wad of notes into the driver's outstretched hand. The wind was howling wildly as Lara stepped out of the rumbling taxi twenty minutes later and unfurled her umbrella against the lashing rain. The ties of her black mackintosh fluttered wildly as she slammed the door closed and made her way up the paved stone drive towards the forecourt of Croft Manor. There she found her memorial statue rising before her in the gloom, mocking her with its depiction of her past glories; rain hammered against the proud shoulders and outstretched stone pistols to collect in a churning deluge in the storm drains below.

The bright lights of the departing taxi washed over her as the vehicle turned around and sped away through the open gates of her estate. Lara stood motionless in the rain, her umbrella held high as she studied the stone figure towering before her. The howling wind sent the rain tumbling in horizontal waves and soaked her through before she had even reached her own front step. Her leather gloves were slick with water as she punched in her security code and pushed aside the door with a gentle creaking.

The entrance hall of Croft Manor was shrouded in darkness, save for the lightning which now snaked across the distant sky and illuminated the stained glass windows set high beneath the rafters. Lara's boots left a trail of mud and water upon the carpet as she approached the grand staircase; her dripping umbrella she left to dry in a Peruvian vase in the entrance foyer.

It did not take her long to reach her bedroom, peeling off her sodden mackintosh as she went and flinging it across the balcony railing. There she took the rusted key from underneath her pillow and opened up the locked cabinet beside her bed. Her fingers alighted upon the two-barrel shotgun bracketed to the wall of her weapons alcove.

Returning outside she loaded two cartridges into the chamber as the rain dripped down into her eyes. Blankly she read the words etched beneath the statue which had once served as her epitaph:

_LARA CROFT_

_Once and Future Adventurer._

_For Her._

Lara took aim and blasted until the stone effigy of her face was a mere masquerade of chipped and blackened stone. The gunshots were lost beneath a distant rumble of thunder as the heavy storm passed over the Surrey countryside. She only ceased shooting when she ran out of ammunition. A few dozen bullets, however, would not destroy this statue built as a reminder of her own mortality. An hour later the removal company had arrived to pull it down, bit by bit, and haul it away until only the stone foundations remained.

As Lara stood there in the rain, her arms huddled tightly to her chest, she sensed someone approaching her. Her butler laid a warm hand upon her shoulder and implored her to come inside. His words were kind; they always had been, but whether from pity or concern she could not tell. It no longer mattered. He did not deserve to feel responsible for her anymore. She had cut ties with him long ago.

"I don't need you," Lara muttered, in a voice quite unlike her own. "Please go inside and gather up your things, Winston. Your services are no longer required."

She could not bear to meet his eyes as she said the words. Lara felt his hand tighten upon her shoulder for a second before slowly withdrawing. She expected him to protest or to insist that she seek some help, but he merely shook his head and said: "Goodbye, Ms. Croft. It has been a pleasure to work for you."

She remained frozen in the rain as Winston returned to the house to pack up his few belongings. About twenty minutes later he kissed her tenderly upon the cheek and bundled his suitcases into the back of a waiting taxi. Lara watched with detachment as the vehicle pulled out of her gates and disappeared into the gloom. The rain did not ease up as she stood there, contemplating her future. It began to pour down even harder. She bowed her head to stop it from running into her eyes as mascara cascaded down her cheeks.

When the lightning started again Lara finally gave up her pretense and slowly walked back inside. Left alone in her huge echoing mansion she collapsed at the foot of the stairs and began to cry.

**XX****X**

And just like that Lara descended into a routine of lethargy and depression she had not experienced since Egypt. Day after day she rose at noon and stood barefoot at her window, staring out upon her unkempt grounds and ignoring the constant phone calls which echoed throughout the entrance foyer, whether from family, friends or the British press clamouring for an interview. Often she sat at the little desk in her library and flicked absently through Werner's notebook, studying the intricate sketches and the scattered snatches of notes which filled its pages. She found herself unable to close the book on that chapter of her life, and equally unable to move onto another.

Although Lara had sacked most of her remaining staff her life was not completely empty or directionless; there was a stack of potential missions piled upon her reading desk, awaiting her attention. She needed only to spin her globe and her finger would alight upon another artefact. Another discovery. Another payoff. Her vast fortune allowed her to turn down virtually every dig or expedition offer that crossed her desk over the next few months. She did not wish to face the wider world just yet. A spark was missing that she was not sure if she could ever get back.

Two years passed in such a languorous fashion. As her isolation became more and more acute Lara's career in academia stalled. Often the newspaper was her only point of contact with the outside world, but even when she did venture outside her estate dressed incognito it seemed to Lara as though the world was simply passing her by. One evening in late November she sat in her music room idly playing _legato _upon her dusty grand piano. A roll of athletic tape sat upon the stand in lieu of sheet music, and Lara interrupted her playing at intervals in order to wrap her fists with it. She knew that she had to do something in order to defeat her demons, but lately her only outlet had been through vigorous exercise. Perhaps a workout would help her to clear her head and make this day productive for a change.

With a sigh Lara raised her arms above her head and performed some stretches to relieve the tension in her shoulders. Then she carefully closed the piano lid and swung her legs out from beneath the stool, padding barefoot across the music room and out into the corridor. She was wearing nothing but a pair of blue drawstring pants and a white sports bra which clung to her ever-shrinking frame. As she entered her bedroom and threw her roll of athletic tape in the drawer by her bed she set up the next CD in rotation upon her sound system. Her rather battered punching bag was already hanging from a chain cinched to the low ceiling. Heavy bass began pounding from the speakers set about her bedroom.

It did not take her long to get lost in the rhythm. Soon she had entered that other plateau – the place where all of her troubles and frustrations were being projected outwards, and the beating of her heart was in perfect symmetry with the pounding of her fists. And then into her consciousness had come the unwelcome shrieking of the telephone.

Lara collapsed against the punching bag a quivering mess, her face a drastic shade of red. She had not realised how gruelling her routine had become, and it took her a moment to regain the strength in her legs. With a shaking hand she brushed away the hair which had come loose from her braid. Then she struck out and blasted the punching bag so hard that it came off its chain and slammed into the opposite wall.

"Goddammit."

Lara clutched desperately at her hair with both fists, staring down at the punching bag as she struggled to catch her breath. The cacophony of noise made her want to scream out loud in frustration, but instead she grabbed the remote and switched off the volume on her stereo system. The telephone's shrill ring was giving her a headache by the time she had navigated the clutter which adorned her bedroom floor and hauled the extension off the wall.

"Who is this?" she growled. She was in no mood for pleasantries.

"Hi, Lara."

Her heart caught in her throat.

"How did you get this number?"

The man on the other end laughed a little. The sound was strangely comforting.

"It wasn't too hard. I'm just surprised you're up at this hour."

"Yes, well…" Her reply was flustered. "I'm sure it's much later where you are. And I'd hate to keep you from your beauty sleep any longer. Lord knows you need it." She was about to hang up the phone and wrench it out of the wall for good measure, but then he simply laughed some more.

"You're not gonna hang up, Lara. You want to know why I called, don't you?"

She paused for a moment and cursed him under her breath. He was right and she knew it. Curiosity had always gotten the better of her.

"Well," she said, trying her utmost to regain control, "since I've explicitly told you to stop calling me and even changed my number I guess it would be useful to know when I file a police report." Her eyes flickered closed as she took a deep breath to calm herself. "So tell me: why _did _you call, Kurtis?"

"I wanted to see how you were doing."

"Me?" She gave a sarcastic laugh. "I'm doing just fine, thank you." Lara looked down at one of her ravaged fists and clenched it so hard that the blood began to flow down between her knuckles. "I've just been rehearsing what might happen at our next meeting."

"I'll bet."

He had that tone of self assurance in his voice that she hated and loved so much. Part of her was angry and heady with adrenaline, but into her mind, as always, crept that annoying little thought that maybe he could offer her something that she was missing.

"What do you want?" she growled.

Lara could imagine an inane grin spreading across his face.

"I need your help with something - it's to do with Prague."

"What to do with Prague?" Her tone was scathing.

"You got _The_ _Times_?"

Lara rolled her eyes.

"…hang on." She put down the phone and hurried across the landing to the library without a second thought. It was almost midnight and the house was dark; her path was brightened only by the light of the moon as it threw long shadows at her feet. That morning's newspaper was still lying open upon her reading desk. Lara took up the extension on the wall and rubbed wearily at her tired eyes. "I have it. What am I looking for?"

"Turn to page 14. It's in the left column." Lara knelt down and spread the paper open on the floor, with the phone tucked up against her shoulder. "The part about the National Museum," he added. "It's only short."

Lara quickly found the article and read it aloud to herself:

"**MYSTERIOUS ****CRYSTAL**** SHARDS TO GO ON DISPLAY IN ****PRAGUE****.**

_After a two year investigation into the elusive Strahov complex in __Prague__ many discoveries have come to light which have fascinated the scientific community. The latest find to be declassified and revealed to the public is a triad of mysterious shards fashioned from precious crystal. It has been speculated by some that these shards were once wielded in combat, although medieval historians have insisted that they were simply ceremonial and never intended for use upon the battlefield. Carbon dating has proved these artifacts to be well over nine centuries old._

_"To quote Mr. Churchill," said Edgar Patel, a British academic who studied the find, "these shards are 'a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma'. So far we've failed to link them to any existing cultures. They appear to have simply fallen from the skies."_

_The three shards are now housed in the __National__ Museum__ in __Prague__. A new exhibit showcasing them will be open to the public on Monday."_

Lara sat back on her haunches. The last time she had seen the three Periapt Shards they had been embedded in the smoking corpse of Pieter Van Eckhardt, and that was where they had remained when Lara had fled the explosion which had destroyed the Cubiculum Nephili and half of the Strahov complex. They must have been made of stronger stuff than she had thought.

"How can that be?" she asked Kurtis, keeping her finger upon the article. "It wasn't much trouble for Von Croy, Carvier and Vasiley to dig up information about the Shards. What makes the National Museum any different?"

"Don't forget, they're still sorting through the messy crime scene that is the Strahov," said Kurtis. "It's taken them two years to release any finds, and they've been scrupulous as to what they will or will not disclose to the public. I don't think they want to admit the truth of what has been found in that place… The whole thing screams elaborate-government-cover-up to me."

"I suppose." She anxiously chewed at her lip. "So they've found the Shards...?"

"And I need to get them back."

Lara frowned.

"But why? Karel is dead. The Sleeper was destroyed. You don't even need them anymore."

"I'm the last of my order, Lara. And as much as it pains me to say it I've got a responsibility to keep these things safe, even if the Sleeper is gone. I need to be ready for anything."

"That's a good point," she said, measuring her words carefully. "But what on earth has this got to do with me, Kurtis?"

"Well…" There was a lengthy pause. "I need your help in getting them back."

"What?" Lara lowered her voice, as though she was ashamed that she had carried on the conversation for so long. Her resolve was fast crumbling. She entertained the thought of hanging up on him, but now that they had been talking for so long she found herself enchanted by the sound of his voice.

"I'm a demon hunter, Lara. I'm not a tomb raider."

"But this isn't a tomb."

"It still holds treasures, doesn't it? Just look at it as a tomb with air-conditioning."

Lara closed the paper and tossed it down upon the floor.

"And a high tech security system, no doubt."

"Don't worry about the security system, Lara. I can use my powers to disable it, but I need another pair of hands to take the Shards. I have to concentrate like a bitch just to keep the system offline long enough to create a window."

Lara was silent for a moment, cradling the phone against her shoulder. Slowly a disbelieving smile pulled at her lips.

"And of all the people in the world you could have phoned for help, you decided to choose me?" She laughed again. "I'm sure there are plenty of professional thieves out there, looking for work, Kurtis. Or better yet you could get one of your mercenary friends to help you out."

"That was a long time ago, Lara."

She tapped her fingers derisively upon the floor.

"Hmm, yes. I'm sure it was."

He sighed.

"Look, disapprove of me all you want, but I really need your help here. Why else would I phone you up out of the blue like this? And after everything that was said between us-"

"Don't," she pleaded, shaking her head. "Please don't, Kurtis."

"Right. Okay. I'm sorry, but you've gotta help me out here, Lara. I need to get those Shards back. My father passed them down to me. I have a duty to get them back."

_His dead father_.

Lara felt a pang of guilt as the thought struck her. Perhaps this had nothing to do with their relationship after all.

She switched the receiver to her other ear.

"I helped you find those Shards before, remember?"

"And this business won't be finished until I get them back. Please, Lara, they've been in my family for centuries. I don't want to leave them to rot in some Czech museum."

It took her a good while—along with a lot more cajoling from Kurtis—until Lara was forced into contemplative silence. Finally she uttered the words that he had been longing to hear:

"Fine," she said, almost in a whisper. "I'll help you, but this is the last time, Kurtis, I swear."

And with that his entire demeanour changed.

"Excellent!" Kurtis gave a laugh. "I knew I could talk you into it. Now pack your suitcase and get yourself to Heathrow. I've already reserved you a seat on the first flight to Prague tomorrow morning - all you need to do is show up."

And Kurtis hung up before Lara could yell at him.


	2. Reunion

_Oh man, you cannot imagine the stress that this chapter caused me! Whilst I was editing I realised that I had my bearings all wrong and ended up drawing a diagram of Prague in order to figure out what side of the river things were located on and in which direction the characters would have to look to see them... Needless to say, it took me ages to get everything right! :D  
_

_Thanks so much to everyone for the encouraging reviews - I really do appreciate them all. I hope that this chapter starts to answer a few of your questions and does justice to the beautiful landscape of Prague.  
_

**XX****X**

Early the next day Lara stood awkwardly in the middle of arrivals at Prague Ruzyně Airport, clutching her satchel tightly against her shoulder as she scanned the crowds with a growing sense of anxiety. She was not sure what she had been expecting as she stepped onto the rumbling plane from Heathrow that morning, but Kurtis was nowhere to be seen. Twenty minutes had passed since her flight had landed and the steady ebb of passengers from the arrivals gate had now completely tailed off.

The airport was larger than Lara had expected, its food court teeming with the usual franchises that the Western world had imposed upon the East. Every terminal was beginning to look exactly the same. A well-polished floor swept off into the distance beneath a sign directing her towards a line of payphones and an ATM. Lara paused and dug in her pocket for her boarding pass. She assured herself for the third time that she had gotten the correct flight and the correct time. If she had known that Kurtis had been lying to her all along then she would have upgraded to business class and charged his credit card for every extra penny.

Wearily Lara collapsed into a nearby seat and hauled the heavy satchel off her shoulder. She was wearing a black tank top and her old bomber jacket, along with a rather worn pair of jeans; her hair was scraped back into a messy braid. For about ten minutes she simply rested her aching legs and watched the steady flow of people going about their business. Then she rummaged through her bag for her purse and set off to go and exchange some money at the tourist information desk.

Kurtis was obviously not coming to meet her.

**XX****X**

It was not long before Lara used a payphone to order a taxi. It was still early, but the traffic into the city was unforgiving. Lara contented herself by flicking through the city guide she had picked up at the terminal, pausing every now and then to stare out of the window or else exchange broken conversation with her driver. Perhaps she could make the most of a bad situation, she thought, and allow herself to relax for a few days before catching a return flight home.

It took about thirty minutes to reach the city centre. As Lara climbed out of the taxi and paid the extortionate fare she pulled her bomber jacket close and suppressed a shiver. The landscape of Prague was awash with red-and-cream brick, broken here and there by jagged church steeples and bursts of trees. In her strollings Lara stopped to buy a coffee at a side-street nook. It was almost nine o'clock by now. At some point of the night it had snowed, leaving every building covered in a fine blanket of white. It looked like a scene from a Christmas card. Lara felt her face tingling with the unfamiliar cold as she made her way slowly through the paved streets.

A chill wind picked up as she approached the Vltava. All paths converged here at Charles Bridge, which stretched for almost a mile across the icy river and still showed signs of damage from the recent heavy floods. A guard tower surmounted the bridge at either end; the adjoining structure they flanked was adorned with rows of old-style lanterns and baroque statues. Lara felt like a quiet witness of medieval times as she walked amongst this array of solemn figures.

A few scattered people were ambling along the bridge, stopping to take pictures or watching the vendors and buskers setting up their stalls. In only a few hours the area would be crawling with tourists. Lara stopped a moment and looked out upon the water faintly glimmering in the morning sun. To her left—on the west bank of the river where she had arrived—rested the small borough of _Malá Strana_; just beyond its sprawling houses and medieval palaces there rose a hill, crowned with the distant turrets of Prague Castle. Somewhere beyond this district was the ruined Strahov complex.

Lara stood overlooking the river next to the weathered statue of St. Anne. Eventually someone broke away from the growing crowds and came to stand beside her. Silence lingered between them as Lara took a slow calculating sip of her coffee.

"And you didn't meet me because…?"

Kurtis gave a shrug.

"I don't like airports."

A gust of wind swept up her braid as Kurtis Trent took a drag of his cigarette. Lara carefully measured him out of the corner of her eye. It surprised her how little he had changed, or at least how little the years had affected him. Perhaps the stubble was heavier about his jaw and the shadows beneath his blue eyes more pronounced, but they still held that same mischievous glint that had fascinated her so at the Louvre.

He was dressed in a pair of army boots and jeans, with a green shirt and a rather battered leather jacket to keep out the cold. She felt a tinge of jealousy as she turned back to look at the water below. How dare he look so together? She suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to punch him.

"Nice flight?" he asked her.

Lara wrapped both hands about her coffee cup. Two of her knuckles were heavily bandaged beneath her fingerless gloves.

"I've had better."

He took another drag of his cigarette. Lara bristled slightly as he blew a cloud of smoke into the air.

"How have you been?"

"I've been fine." She took a sip of her coffee. "You?"

"Also fine." He took another drag. He was now mimicking her by staring resolutely at the water instead of her. "I half-expected to see your name all over the papers."

She shook her head.

"I needed a break."

"It's been two years, Lara."

"Some things take more than two years of your life to get over, Kurtis."

He smiled slightly and snatched a glance at her. She felt her cheeks burning but refused to meet his gaze.

"So," he said, very slowly, "are you over it yet?"

Lara did not acknowledge the question. Instead she turned to leave.

"Lara, wait!"

Kurtis reached out and grabbed her arm. She wrenched it from his grip and turned to face him, her heeled boots clattering nosily upon the stone paving.

"Kurtis, what was this all _really _about?" He gave a shrug and brushed past her, walking out onto the bridge proper. She followed him with determined steps. "You can't just call me out of the blue, dump me on a flight to Prague and except me not to be just a _little_ bit suspicious." He was still not answering. With a scowl Lara yanked the cigarette out of his mouth and pitched it into the water below.

"Listen to me," she said, jabbing an angry finger at his chest. "I am only helping you because I want to get some closure on this whole thing. And the Periapt Shards are yours by right, so if they keep them in that museum, well, then, I'm never going to hear the end of your whining."

Kurtis raised an eyebrow.

"I never realised that you cared."

Lara turned away, laughing softly. She took another sip of her coffee as she watched a boat gliding across the waters below. There was a soft click as Kurtis lit up another cigarette.

This time Lara threw away the entire packet.

"You do not smoke in my presence," she growled. "Not now. Not _ever_."

Kurtis frowned.

"But what am I supposed to do after we've had sex?"

She just stormed off, and he followed her with a smirk.

**XX****X**

Lara could not help but dwell upon her last stay in Prague. After she had defeated Pieter van Eckhardt and prevented him from awakening the Sleeper, Lara had left the Strahov building to find a dying Kurtis clutching his stomach and kneeling outside in the blood-stained snow. He had been run through with a skewer by the creature Boaz during their desperate battle - Lara had no idea how he had survived, let alone found the strength to drag himself away from the arena before collapsing on the street outside.

She found the reporter Luddick's car abandoned in the piled snow near the warehouse entrance; the door was hanging open and the keys had been left sitting on the tattered front seat. With some difficulty she got Kurtis into the back and drove him to the nearest hospital. After several hours in emergency surgery he had somehow pulled through with nothing but an ugly scar.

They quickly bonded over his hospital bed. That was when Lara first learnt his surname: Trent. It was not his given name, for he had changed it from the German _Heissturm_ after joining the Foreign Legion. He did not like to be reminded of his Lux Veritatis lineage, and had been trying to escape from his father and his duty for many years. She could relate to the feeling of being the prodigal child.

Lara spent months of limbo in Prague, nursing a perpetual headache as she cleared her name with Interpol over the murder of Werner Von Croy. She was pleased to simply put the whole grisly business behind her, but she was left drained and unsatisfied by the manner in which it had been handled. She knew that her reputation had been forever damaged by her association with the Monstrum, but once the case had been settled Lara was in no hurry to leave Prague behind. There was only one reason for that.

The skyline was nothing but a mass of crucifixes and lanterns as she idly wandered Charles Bridge, Kurtis lagging a few steps behind her. A number of houses lined the riverbank nearby, painted in the same pastels which made up the vast cityscape of Prague. Beneath the trees Lara noticed a number of parasols and café tables rendered useless by a soft layer of snow.

"I wouldn't go near that statue if I were you."

Lara turned her head, and noticed that Kurtis had stopped.

"Why?"

He nodded his head to something behind her.

"You see that statue there?" Lara turned around and followed his line of gaze. She found herself looking up at a statue of a figure dressed in monk's robes and holding out a sprig of lilies. An angelic child was at his feet, offering him a basket of bread. "St. Nicholas of Tolentino, patron of those holy souls still lingering in Purgatory."

"I never took you for an authority on Catholicism," she said.

Kurtis shrugged in answer.

"Sometimes you just gotta know your enemy." Lara studied him closely as he walked past her and came to lean upon the edge of the bridge. He gestured towards one of the houses on the riverbank. "You see that balcony on the top floor? The one with the Madonna?" Lara nodded. There was a lantern fixed to the iron railings of the balcony, which was decorated with a few small potted plants. Kurtis looked at her and smiled strangely. "They say that if the lantern goes out when you pass by then you will die within the year."

Lara raised an eyebrow.

"Don't tell me you're superstitious."

Kurtis turned back to her and leant back on his elbows. He shrugged again.

"And you're not?"

She laughed derisively.

"I break into tombs and steal artefacts for a living. If I thought that some ancient curse would come hunting me down every time then I wouldn't be a very good tomb raider, would I?"

"So that thing with Set was… what?" he ventured. "Just a glitch?"

Lara did not reply for a moment. The wind picked up and blew her hair about her face. She tucked a wayward strand behind her ear.

"There was a prophecy," she said. "It was fated to happen."

"Don't tell me you believe in fate."

Lara had no answer to this, and they soon continued on.

It began to snow. Lara was silent as they headed for the east bank and passed under the Old Town tower. She discarded her coffee cup in the waste bin of a café on the way. Soon they were traversing the crowds which were slowly gathering as they reached the main city square and approached the statue of its namesake, St. Wenceslas, who sat astride a rearing house and held aloft a standard. About half a dozen people sat or stood about the steps at its base, chatting idly and taking photographs.

Lara came to a stop before the statue; Kurtis paused beside her. It was coloured that slightly weathered green of monuments often found in public parks. Rising up behind the figure of Wenceslas was the National Museum. It was more akin to a palace than a museum, with a grand façade lined with pillars and flanked by towers dotted with stone gargoyles and golden spires.

"So what are the security arrangements like?" asked Lara.

"I'll show you," Kurtis said quietly, as he slipped away from her side. "Come on. They're on display in the Pantheon."

**XX****X**

It was cold inside the museum. They both stood for a moment in the entrance hall, brushing the snow from their jackets. A beautiful marble staircase rose up before them. The interior reminded Lara of a well-lit church, with polished walls decorated in medieval imagery and floors lined with strips of rich red carpeting. It was as impressive as any elaborate tomb.

Lara made Kurtis pay her admission fee, citing her taxi fare as a debt to be repaid. Most people seemed to be flocking up the stairs, so they slowly followed a buzzing crowd of Japanese tourists up the staircase and into the Pantheon. It was an immense room with a large domed ceiling sweeping up to the sky; various frescos adorned the four walls, and rich marble columns lent the room a pseudo-Grecian feel. The busts of local cultural heroes had been lined up against the far wall to make space for the museum's latest acquisition. In the centre of the room there now stood a tall glass case, roped off against the influx of eager visitors by a set of velvet ropes.

Lara and Kurtis hurried over to catch a glimpse of the display. Set upon a bed of dark cloth before them rested the three dagger-like Shards, their crystalline surfaces gleaming brightly in the glare of the overhead lights. It had been two years but Lara could swear that the blades themselves were burnished brighter, the etchings on the handles easier to read then when she had handled them last. She remembered reading in Werner's field notebook that they had been looted from the underground cities of ancient Turkey.

A note next to the Shards bore a description in both English and Czech. The last sentence simply read:

_Of unknown origin._

Lara watched Kurtis' face closely as he studied the Periapt Shards. His expression was as unreadable as always, but it was as though a shadow had passed over him at that moment. He stared intently at the display for several minutes without saying a word. The large room was filled with the murmuring of voices and the clicking of cameras.

Finally there was a break in the crowd, and Lara and Kurtis moved away from the case and followed the marked route through the hall into the next room, which hosted an array of artefacts marking the history of Czechoslovakia. Lara paused next to a case containing the reliquary of St. Eligius and turned to Kurtis with a frown.

"What are we going to do?" she said. She kept her voice low in the echoing room.

Kurtis stood there with his arms folded.

"Did you check for security cameras?"

She nodded.

"There were two, one above the entrance and another in the opposite corner."

Kurtis kept his head down, attempting to remain disinterested as he walked to the doorway and snatched a glance back into the Pantheon. He turned back to Lara and gave a nod.

"I see them. It should be easy to disable them both."

"And you're positive that nobody will see our faces on camera?"

"Lara, relax, will you?" Kurtis shook his head and walked further into the exhibition room, his footsteps echoing down the long corridor. "We both managed to infiltrate the Louvre without the other's knowledge, remember? In comparison this place is a walk in the park."

Lara rolled her eyes and followed him. Despite the fact that she had spent the last two years as a virtual recluse in her Surrey mansion, hers was still a face that people often recognized and—most importantly—a face that Interpol would not readily forget. She did not wish to dredge up the past.

"What about guard rotation? And the alarms?" She spoke at almost a whisper, despite the fact that there were barely any people in here amidst the dusty relics and fossils from Bohemia and Moravia. "Have you marked out all the exits?"

Kurtis laughed.

"You act as though I've never robbed a museum before…" His words trailed off as he caught the stern look upon Lara's face. "Okay, maybe you should just forget that last part…" He sighed. "Just relax, Lara. I'm experienced in these things, and I know you would never admit it but you are too. I'm sure you've been beaten to an artefact before."

Lara's silence only served to affirm his statement.

It was not long before they had passed through the exhibition halls and wound their way back to the opposite end of the grand staircase; the layout of this building resembled a horseshoe. Lara noted every detail so that she could recall it later on, even under cover of darkness. They spent about an hour inside the museum in this way, pretending that they were interested in the exhibits as they made internal notes of potential hiding places and escape routes. Even so Lara felt compelled to voice her concern as they descended the grand staircase for the final time and headed for the exit.

"Seriously," Kurtis told her, "there's no need to worry." He gave her a confident smile and then turned and strode out of the front doors. "Since when have I ever led you wrong?"

Lara just shook her head and followed Kurtis out of the museum, slipping a few_ korun českých_ into the donation box by the entrance to allay her guilt at what they were planning to do.


	3. Damage

_Thanks for the reviews everyone! My posting schedule is meant to be one chapter a week, but because I had some editing to do on this update it was a bit delayed, so I'm sorry about that! The events of this chapter will probably seem a bit rushed and anticlimactic, but there are reasons for this which will become clearer in future updates. _

_Again, I did a lot of research into the National Museum in Prague but have yet to go there myself, so quite a bit of artistic license was needed to write this chapter. My frequent googlings of 'how to raid a museum' were to no avail, but I did dig up a lot of myth-busting information about lasers, so as a result my depiction of such should be pretty accurate :D  
_

**XX****X**

They spent the entire day planning the raid on the museum. Lara did not wish to stay in Prague any longer than necessary, and Kurtis seemed to oblige her; he had been studying the layout of the building and its security system for months, ever since the museum had taken possession of the Shards for study. They spent all afternoon sitting at a table in the back corner of a quiet café, poring over the blueprints which Kurtis had acquired. Lara did not bother to ask him how he had gotten hold of them. She had made her weary peace with his extra-legal activities a long time ago.

It seemed that the security in place at the National Museum was nothing compared to that which they had encountered at the Louvre. Lara was relieved to hear this, and once they had finished going over the basics of their plan she used the payphone at the back of the café to book herself a flight home the next morning. She intended to help Kurtis retrieve the Shards, change her clothes and then leave the country before news of the raid broke the next day. She did not wish to take her chances with Interpol again.

Lara ate little that day, unable to quell the feeling of unease which had settled heavily in her stomach. Long after the sun had set she found herself standing alone next to the statue of St. Anne where they had met that morning. The surface of the Vltava glistened below her, bathed here and there in the orange glow of lantern light which illuminated the length of the bridge. Kurtis had left to retrieve the equipment they would need from his apartment on the west bank of the river, but Lara had refused to go with him. She had absolutely no intention of putting herself in such an awkward situation. Instead she waited upon Charles Bridge as the sky steadily darkened, watching the people going about their business with a keen sense of detachment. The snow had long since ceased to fall.

It was almost an hour before Kurtis reappeared, dressed now in a white shirt and his leather jacket; a dark bundle was under his arm. He was smoking a cigarette which he quickly discarded after a last urgent drag. As he came to a stop before Lara he stomped it out and then swapped the bundle to his other arm.

"You ready?" he asked.

"I've been ready for ages, Kurtis," she said bitingly. "And if I'd known you would take this long to get ready I'd have saved myself the trouble and simply thrown myself in the river already."

Kurtis raised an eyebrow as he shoved the bundle into her folded arms.

"And good luck to you too," he muttered in disdain. Lara looked down at the bundle he had given her with a frown. "Hide this in your backpack, will you? I'm gonna need my hands free for this."

**XX****X**

They reached Wenceslas Square in less than ten minutes, weaving their way through the thinning crowds as they headed for the museum upon the east bank. The square was a busy area at all hours of the day, but Kurtis was quick to reassure her that Monday evening was the best time to attempt such a daring raid, when the streets were likely to be at their quietest.

The museum soon loomed over them again, its many windows illuminated by a bank of floodlights against the dark vault of the sky. As they approached the statue of St. Wenceslas the crowds gradually tapered off. Many were tourists who preferred to stick to the brightly lit areas furnished with restaurants and bars, and Kurtis crossed the main street and led Lara through a myriad of alleys and narrow backstreets until they had skirted the museum's lengthy perimeter. Along the building's north wall they found a barred window set just below street level, where a flight of steps plunged down towards a basement access door. The exterior floodlighting along the museum's façade was missing here, revealing a rare weakness in the building's design. The only lighting in the area was a lantern upon the street corner. The basement door was heavily barred and locked with a security keypad, but that was not their target.

"Okay," Lara whispered, glancing around once the area was clear. "Now would be a good time for you to use those powers of yours, Kurtis."

She saw his smile flicker beneath the ghostly light of the nearby lantern. It promptly disappeared as the street was plunged into darkness. Pausing to check that nobody had noticed the lantern extinguish within its holdings, they swiftly ducked down the flight of steps and stopped in front of the barred window. A low wall obstructed the view from street level.

Lara reached up and took one of the metal bars set across the window in each gloved hand. She glanced back and turned in Kurtis' direction, her braid cascading over her shoulder.

"I'm ready," she said.

And with a nod of acknowledgement Kurtis raised a palm and closed his eyes in concentration, quietly focusing his power. Lara braced herself as she felt the bars begin to violently shake. They came away from their hinges with a crack, and she cursed softly as the full weight of the frame fell against her and threatened to knock her off-balance.

Kurtis rushed forwards to help her with the bars, but Lara simply shot him a look and shouldered the weight herself with a grunt.

"Drop the chivalric act, Kurtis," she muttered. "Just get inside before somebody sees us."

He stepped back and raised his hands in mock surrender.

"As you wish, m'lady."

**XX****X**

It did not take them long to find their way through the darkened basement offices. For all of the museum's spendour it did not employ a bevy of security staff, relying instead on an elaborate CCTV system and infrared laser-grids to protect the most valuable acquisitions. There was, however, a security booth with a bank of camera monitors watched over by two uniformed guards. From the safety of an empty side office Kurtis used his farsee ability to enter this room and cloak the monitors in a mystical shield, locking the cameras overlooking the Pantheon into an infinite loop. Lara had a horrible feeling that he had stolen the idea from an action movie.

On their way through the winding corridors they were almost caught out by a patrolling guard nearing the end of his shift. Lara heard approaching footsteps and seized Kurtis by the sleeve of his leather jacket, dragging him down a corner and pushing him up against a nearby vending machine. Before he could protest she had placed her finger to his lips and given him a stern look to keep quiet, their bodies pressed close together in the shadowy alcove. Not until the guard had disappeared down the corridor did Lara withdraw her hand. Kurtis' mouth pulled into a smirk as she moved away from him and glanced anxiously over her shoulder.

"You know," he said in a seductive voice, "if you'd wanted to put your hands on my hot tight body all you had to do was ask…"

"Shut up, Kurtis," she hissed, turning back with an angry look upon her face. "I was just being practical."

"I'm sure."

Lara fought the urge to kick him very hard in the shin. The smirk was still upon his face as he walked away and continued on down the corridor. She followed him only grudgingly, eventually halting before another door. Thankfully it was not locked upon this side.

"We should be near the entrance hall now," Kurtis whispered. "Let's just hope I've interpreted the blueprints correctly."

Lara raised an eyebrow at this.

"Men," she said with derision. "Always too proud to ask for directions."

Kurtis ignored her jibe. He cautiously pushed aside the door and emerged slowly into the cavernous entrance hall near the main staircase. The museum was shrouded in almost complete darkness, save for the occasional glow of artificial lighting from sconces set against the walls. The low hum of the heating system permeated the empty space.

"So far, so good," he muttered. "Let's just hope my shield upon the camera system holds…"

Lara remembered the two security cameras in this room, disguised amongst the stone busts which were set along the banisters of each landing. For her own peace of mind it was not enough to trust in Kurtis' mystical interference in the camera system; they would have to hide in the shadows as they moved.

From the safety of the doorway they watched the cameras as they slowly turned this way and that. Once there was an opening they started out across the entrance hall, rushing towards the grand staircase which led up to the Pantheon. Lara felt her heart racing as Kurtis rushed past her, taking the steps two at a time. The carpet beneath their feet dulled their footsteps as they reached the first landing, canopied by a set of stone archways. Here they ducked into the shadowy corner of the landing and flattened themselves against the wall.

No alarm sounded. They had not been spotted; Kurtis' shield had held after all.

"Excellent," Lara whispered with a smile. "Now let's go and get those Shards, shall we?"

Quietly she slipped away from his side, emerging from the shadows lining the walls and stepping through the doorway into the Pantheon. Latticed shadows played off the linoleum floor beneath her feet, reflected from the circular skylight set in the immense dome above. The case containing the Shards stood alone in the centre of the floor, lit from within by a set of artificial lights. Lara walked softly through the echoing dome—she had changed into a pair of flat boots earlier—alert to the slightest of sounds. Once she had reached the Shards safely she gestured to Kurtis to follow her.

The security system surrounding the Periapt Shards was elaborate, but not nearly so complicated as the laser-grid system she had encountered at the Louvre. This glass case was mounted by a small black box in each corner fitted with a red light, and although invisible to the naked eye Lara knew that a bank of infrared lasers crisscrossed the entire display. If she attempted to cut the glass without first disabling the lasers then she would set off the security alarms.

"Are you sure that you can do this?" said Lara.

Kurtis positioned himself in front of the case.

"Absolutely," he told her. "Just check with the infrared that the lasers are down first. I'm not sure how long I can hold the window, so you better hurry."

Lara rolled her eyes as she swung her satchel down from her shoulders.

"That doesn't inspire a lot of confidence, Kurtis."

She worked as quickly as possible, prepping the circular glass cutter and pulling out the infrared goggles that Kurtis had acquired especially for the task. They were very heavy.

"Okay," Lara muttered, adjusting the straps before pulling the goggles down over her eyes. "I guess this is the moment of truth…"

Kurtis raised an eyebrow at her.

"Please, spare me your infectious enthusiasm."

The world appeared a bright green to Lara through the goggles, the lasers a grid of bright lines in her vision. Beside her Kurtis lifted a hand towards the case. It took a few tense moments before the low buzzing which characterized the security system suddenly cut short and died. The red lights flickering inside the case switched off as the laser system failed before her eyes. Lara breathed a slow sigh of relief in the silence which followed.

Kurtis remained motionless—his eyes closed but occasionally flickering—as Lara quickly removed the goggles and took up the circular glass cutter. It mounted the case with the help of a suction cup, and an extendable metal arm with a small wheel attached served to mark out the circumference of a circle. She was highly skilled in the use of such equipment, and it was not long before she had scored a clean circle in the glass just big enough to slip a hand inside. Carefully Lara disentangled the glass cutter from the case and returned it to her satchel, along with the goggles. Then she reached out and gently but firmly pushed the circle of glass inwards inch by inch, making sure that her fingertips did not touch the glass and leave any fingerprints.

Everything was going so smoothly that Lara did not notice Kurtis' hand shaking with effort beside her. Suddenly his eyes opened and he stumbled backwards with a gasp. A high-pitched alarm sprang up and blared throughout the building.

Lara froze, startled into inaction.

"How did we trigger the alarm?" she hissed. Her voice was almost lost beneath the wailing noise which now engulfed the Pantheon.

"Window must have closed," Kurtis grunted. His features looked weary and drawn as he put a hand to his forehead in obvious pain. As the alarm continued to sound his eyes opened again and he said in an urgent voice: "Hurry up, will you? We have to leave, _now_!"

"I am aware of that, Kurtis!" she snarled in reply, clenching her jaw as she tried to finish working the circle of glass into the case.

Kurtis noticed this. In frustration he rushed over and pushed Lara aside, stripping off his leather jacket and bunching it around his fist. He ignored Lara's protests and smashed through the rest of the glass with one swift punch. It shattered everywhere.

Once the pieces had settled Lara stepped awkwardly through the debris to take the Shards, her boots crunching upon the wayward glass. Her face was red with anger as she straightened and shoved the three Periapt Shards into Kurtis' hands.

"You've shown off enough for tonight," she hissed. "Now let's get the hell out of here."

If the security alarms had not already woken up half the neighbourhood then the sound of shattering glass had surely done so, and Lara did not even wait for Kurtis as she turned on her heel and raced desperately for the nearest exit.

**XX****X**

They finally stopped running when they reached Charles Bridge.

Lara had no idea how they had managed to get away, but she suspected that the cloak upon the camera system might have bought them some valuable time. The sun had long set upon the distant horizon, but the sky above still held traces of blue and dark wisps of cloud as they passed under the arch of the Old Town tower and emerged onto the bridge proper, slowing from a dead sprint into a staggering jog. It was now almost deserted.

Lara steadied herself against a lantern as she came to a stop. The bridge was still bathed in the orange glow of artificial lighting; across the dark expanse of water the visage of Prague Castle was illuminated like a beacon.

"That was close, huh?"

Kurtis came to a stop beside her, bending over with his hands upon his knees to try and catch his breath. It seemed to her that he was shaking his head with quiet laughter. Lara leant back against the lantern and closed her eyes in frustration.

"What on earth do you find so funny about this?" she growled, opening her eyes again and glaring at him. Her chest was still heaving for breath. "We could have been arrested. _I _could have been arrested, _again_. It took me months to clear my name with Interpol. What in the hell were you thinking?"

He just shook his head, still bent double.

"I just never realised you could be so gullible, that's all."

Lara opened her mouth to make a nasty remark, but instead she firmly shut it again and lowered her voice: "If I wasn't in a public place, Kurtis, I swear you would be in a world of pain right now."

"Oh, come on, Lara." He straightened up a little. "Did you really think I had some elaborate backup plan figured out? I thought you knew me better than that."

She rolled her eyes.

"And so did I."

Neither spoke as they sought to regain their breath, waiting as a young couple passed by strolling hand-in-hand. Eventually Lara spoke up:

"Are the Shards safe?"

Kurtis patted a hand against his leather jacket in affirmation. Lara looked at him for a long moment before turning and walking away. She did not get far before Kurtis reached out and seized her outstretched arm.

"Lara, where are you going?"

She whirled around in frustration, catching him by surprise. Anger was etched across her features.

"I'm leaving, Kurtis," she said. "This whole thing was a huge mistake."

He did not let go of her arm.

"Then why did you come?"

Lara found herself unable to answer this. She looked down and stared at the ground, trying to find the words.

"I honestly don't know," she said in a quiet voice. "Because I'm a fool, I suppose."

Kurtis edged a little closer.

"Do you still love me?"

Lara stiffened. She felt his grip upon her arm tightening just a fraction as she hesitated.

"Kurtis, I…"

She did not have the chance to finish her sentence. Suddenly a siren rose high and shrieking in the distance. They both turned in alarm as a police car came speeding from the direction of the bridge tower, its red and blue lights washing over the walls of the narrow street.

"We have to go." Kurtis tugged urgently at Lara's arm. "Come on, Lara! We can hide at my place."

Swiftly Lara ripped her eyes away from the sight. She was vaguely aware that Kurtis was now grasping her hand as they rushed across the bridge to the other side of the Vltava. A lone man stood next to one of the many statues set along its length, and he turned to look at them as the two ran past. Lara prayed that he would not remember their faces. As they passed the statue of St. Nicholas of Tolentino the lantern hanging behind it suddenly died, leaving a trail of smoke to rise steadily into the night sky.

When they reached the _Malá Strana_ tower on the west bank Lara and Kurtis broke apart and descended into a sprint down Mostecká Street. Kurtis was like a man possessed as he ducked down alleyways and took flights of steps with a single leap.

Lara followed him without once looking back.


	4. Sanctuary

_Again with the ridiculous amount of editing this chapter needed to get into postable shape! The events of this update are probably the worst kept secret in the entire world, but oh well - I did telegraph them myself in my author's notes, so I only have myself to blame, teehee :D_

_We've reached the halfway point of the story now, and things are set to get ridiculously crazy after this. I downgraded the rating of this story for now but it will soar back into 'M' territory next chapter. If you want to keep track of updates you might want to add this story to your alerts. Thank you so much everyone for the reviews/faves!  
_

**XX****X**

The Periapt Shards were laid out unceremoniously upon the bed.

Lara stood by the window with her arms folded, one hand absently stroking her left arm as she watched Kurtis wandering about the room, opening and closing various drawers and scrambling about in a vain search for ammunition. She failed to point out that a dog-eared box of bullets was sitting on the dresser next to the bed.

Kurtis' apartment was small and cramped, nothing more than a bedroom and an adjoining bathroom with space for a stove, a fridge and a rusty sink in the corner. Lara wondered how on earth he had managed to gather so much clutter when he could afford so little space in which to put it. A battered police radio stood upon the windowsill beside her, held together with duct tape and old rubber bands. It had been spouting unintelligible chatter for a while now and it was giving her a headache.

Lara rubbed at her forehead wearily and finally gestured towards the ammunition upon the dresser.

"Kurtis, you've got to relax," she said despairingly. "It's been over an hour. We haven't seen any sign of the police, and there's no reason for them to come crashing through that door when you disabled the security cameras."

Kurtis indicated the radio with a nod.

"I'll only relax once the police bands are silent on this." He took the box of ammunition from his dresser and sank down upon the edge of the bed, opening up his Boran X and slipping several bullets into the chamber. When he was done he closed the gun again with a satisfying click; it remained in his hand as he walked over to the window. Lara stepped aside as he pushed back the curtain and looked down into the street, his gun raised at his shoulder.

"So what are you planning to do?" she asked him. "Just shoot anyone who comes through that door?"

Lara was getting extremely agitated. She did not speak much Czech, so she had no idea what the police bands were saying; Kurtis understood the language well, but she did not trust him to be completely truthful on the matter. A part of her suspected that he would make any excuse to keep her here with him, especially after how adamant she had been to avoid his apartment and the bed that they had once shared here.

"The Shards belong to me," Kurtis said quietly, still intently staring out of the window. "If anyone tries to take them from me…" He turned back to her, his gun still raised. "I've been living here for two years, Lara. I've been watching the Strahov this entire time, screwed at every turn by all of the bureaucratic bullshit over the dead bodies and the weapons and the chemicals that they found. The exhibit was my best shot in two years."

Lara remained unmoved.

"I still don't see why you had to drag me into this."

Kurtis lowered his gun and turned aside from the window. She did not look away as he gazed at her, his expression unreadable. He was quiet as he deposited his Boran X upon the windowsill and then shrugged past her. His back remained to her as he walked across the room and leant heavily upon the dresser.

"I had to see you." She noticed his right hand clenching the edge of the dresser, trembling a little with rage. "I woke up one morning and you were gone, Lara. No note, no anything."

Lara shook her head in frustration.

"We are not doing this," she said, her voice low and bitter. "I don't owe you an explanation, Kurtis."

"Yes, you fucking do!" His yell echoed strangely in the tiny room. Lara could feel the blood throbbing strangely in her ears as Kurtis turned around and faced her, the hurt upon his face plain to see. It was a moment before he could speak again. "I thought you…" He ran a hand through his hair. "I thought we had something, Lara. Something real."

Lara stood rigidly by the window, stunned into silence by his words. For a long time she gazed at Kurtis with unseeing eyes, and then she looked down at the floor and took a deep breath.

"Well," she said slowly, "I guess you were mistaken then." Her voice trembled as she spoke, and Lara cursed herself for showing such emotion in front of him. She could still feel his eyes fixed upon her. "I better go," she added. "I should never have come here…"

Lara reached out and took up her bomber jacket where it was draped across a nearby chair; in her haste she forgot to even pick up her satchel. Without glancing up she headed straight for the door with determined steps. Kurtis positioned himself in front of it and folded his arms.

"No, Lara."

"Please let me go," she pleaded. "I… I have to go."

He edged towards her a little, his arms dropping to his sides.

"You have to go? Or you _want _to go?"

Lara gave a despairing sigh.

"Kurtis, please, don't make this harder than it already is…" She reached out and pushed away his outstretched hands, then made a move towards the door. Her hand was almost upon the handle when Kurtis reached out and grabbed her arm.

"Lara, I still love you…"

That was all it took: that one brief moment and she was gone.

He took her in his arms and kissed her.

Her jacket fell forgotten to the floor as Lara wrapped her own arms about his neck and pulled him in deeper, willing the kiss to be harder. She had been so desperate for this she could barely contain her passion, slipping one hand behind his neck as the other clawed desperately through his hair; Kurtis' arms were already around her waist blindly tugging at the hem of her shirt.

Lara drew back from the kiss and allowed him to pull the garment over her head and then roughly cast it away. Soon they were kissing with a furious passion that lent Kurtis the strength to seize her about the waist and suddenly lift her from the floor. Lara hooked her legs about his sides and kissed him ever harder, her arms wrapped tightly about his neck.

The Periapt Shards were still sitting upon the bed behind them. As he pulled back from her kisses Kurtis turned around and knocked them to the floor as though they were nothing. Lara seized a handful of his shirt and pulled him back to her with a savage kiss. The next moment she had pushed him down onto the bed and straddled him, kissing him for brief spaces as she fumbled with the buttons on his jeans. Her chest was heaving in anticipation as she abandoned her task and removed Kurtis' shirt instead, pulling it over his head and leaving his hair a dishevelled mess.

His arms and stomach were as toned as ever, but the huge scar which ran in a jagged line across his abdomen had faded in colour drastically; she remembered it when it had still been fresh, and how it had been slightly pink and still sensitive to the touch. Now Lara traced her fingers along the disfiguring scar without eliciting a wince, marveling again at how Kurtis had managed to survive sustaining such a wound.

Lara leant in and planted kisses along the scar, starting where it began just above his naval and moving down with slow and practiced movements until it disappeared below the waistband of his jeans. Soon her hand reached down and began to unhook his belt; when she had finally released all of the buttons she roughly tugged his jeans down past his knees. In answer Kurtis grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him, taking her face in both hands and kissing her again. Then he eased her down onto the bed and with halting movements slowly undressed her until she wore nothing but a lacy bra and a pair of black panties.

"Lara," he murmured softly.

His lips grazed her cheek as he leant in closer and began to trail kisses at her neck, one hand still lingering at her thigh. Lara's eyes slid closed as he moved down past her throat and began kissing along her collarbone. She was beginning to lose herself as he tugged down the straps of her bra and planted soft kisses between her breasts and down towards her stomach; his left hand unhooked the clasp of her bra as the other slowly ran up her thigh and reached places that made her heart skip a beat.

Kurtis smiled at her pleasure and leant in closer, kissing her on the mouth and catching her lip gently between his teeth. They continued to kiss savagely as his free hand tugged at her panties. Lara broke away from the kiss and roughly pulled Kurtis' boxers down past his thighs. It was not long before he was inside her.

Lara's hands clawed desperately at his shoulders, struggling for purchase as they began to move rhythmically upon the bed. Kurtis bit back a gasp as her nails left faint scratch marks along his skin, his mouth lingering against hers before he clasped her hands in his and pinned her down beneath him by the wrists. Lara rose up and met him for another kiss as the walls swiftly crumbled around her.

When they finally broke apart Lara and Kurtis just stared at each other in quiet disbelief, their breathing laboured. With great tenderness Kurtis touched a hand to the side of her face and caressed her cheek. Lara drew into his touch with a moan.

"I love you," she whispered.

Kurtis drew his hand back, startled. Lara returned his gaze with a similar look of shock, her hair falling across her face where it had come loose from her braid. Before he could say a word she pulled him down into another kiss, and they gave into their passion and clutched at each other desperately as the world fell away.

**XX****X**

It was several hours before Lara gently stirred from sleep. For the first time in several years she was not woken by the nightmares.

Confusion flooded her senses as she opened her eyes, and it took her a few minutes to orientate herself to her surroundings. It was still dark. The curtains were closed, but a shaft of moonlight streamed in through a gap in the hangings and fell across the end of the bed. Kurtis was still asleep, with his arms lightly wrapped around her; Lara was lying with her back to his naked chest, one hand resting atop his wrist. She wanted nothing more than to just stay like this and forget about the world outside for a little longer, but she knew that she could not.

Slowly Lara turned around to face Kurtis, taking care not to wake him as she did so. He looked so peaceful as he slept. Lara studied his face for a long time as she ran a gentle hand along his outstretched arm. All of the worry and defensiveness had disappeared from his expression. Perhaps the last few years had taken the same toll upon Kurtis as they had upon Lara - he had simply worked harder than her to conceal it.

Lara leant across and kissed him softly upon the lips, lingering for a moment against the light stubble which shadowed his jaw. Then she pushed herself upright and gently pulled back the bedcovers.

She felt a flush of shame as she looked about the room and noticed the multitude of clothes strewn haphazardly about the carpet. Holding the bedsheets to her naked body she wondered how on earth she had ended up in this position yet again. It felt like a strange case of déjà vu.

The police radio had gone dead upon the windowsill. Risking the cold of the room Lara slipped quietly out of bed and set about dressing herself again. As she wandered over to the mirror hanging above the sink she combed her fingers distractedly through her hair. She could not help studying Kurtis' sleeping reflection in the mirror as she loosely re-braided her messy hair.

On her way to retrieve her jacket and satchel something caught her eye, glistening brightly where it caught the shaft of moonlight streaming in through the window. Lara walked over and crouched down to retrieve one of the Periapt Shards where it rested upon the carpet.

As she balanced carefully upon her heels Lara turned the Shard over in her hands, running her fingers lightly over the etchings upon its handle. She found another peering out from under the bed and the third lying beneath the nearby chair; carefully she placed all three upon the dresser by the bed. She was glad that she had helped to return these weapons to their rightful owner, although she still felt a bit of residual guilt that the museum had lost its newest acquisition on the first day of its exhibit. She wondered absently what the headlines would read the next day.

Behind her Lara did not notice Kurtis stirring. He gave a soft smile as he reached out for her in the bed beside him, but his eyes flew open when he realised she was gone. He sat up abruptly.

"Lara…?"

She jumped with a start, feeling the guilt washing over her. This was the second time in a row that he had woken to an empty bed after a night with her. This time, however, she had not been able to slip away without a fight. Kurtis stared at her, leaning back upon the palms of his hands. The bedsheets slipped down almost to his waist to reveal his state of undress. He looked very hurt.

"Lara, where are you going?"

She suddenly felt very naked beneath his gaze. Like a deer in the headlights she froze before him and then turned on her heel and headed for the door. Kurtis was already throwing back the covers and hurriedly pulling on his boxers.

"I can't do this again, Kurtis," she protested, stopping before the door and whirling around. "It's just too hard."

"It's hard," he echoed, pushing himself away from the bed. "So you're just going to run away? Again?" He rolled his eyes as he picked up his jeans where they had been flung across the chair in the corner. "Is that your solution for everything, Lara? To just keep on running away?" He pulled on the jeans and fastened his belt with an angry flourish. "And never mind that you keep on playing me, knowing that I feel the way I do…"

"Save me the lecture, Kurtis," she bit back. "You don't even know me anymore."

He laughed in disbelief.

"Is that so?" he said, pausing a moment to speak before he pulled his white shirt over his head. "So I guess that you haven't spent the last two years hiding away in your mansion then? I've read the papers, Lara. I know how you've isolated yourself from everyone. They're calling you Greta Garbo. Some people are convinced that you're dead."

"I _was_ dead," she snarled. "I was lying there broken and bleeding at the bottom of that tomb, so don't you dare try and tell me that-"

"You think I don't understand? Is that it?"

Kurtis marched towards her a few steps, barefoot but now fully dressed. His eyes were blazing with anger as he stopped and roughly yanked up the hem of his shirt to reveal the disfiguring scar across his abdomen. "Did you forget about that?" he cried. "Forty stitches, Lara. I nearly bled out on the operating table. The doctors said they were already prepping the morgue." He left his shirt drop again. "This has nothing to do with death or pain or any of that bullshit, Lara. You're just afraid to let anybody in. You're so caught up in your own fucking problems that it makes no difference to you who you end up hurting along the way…"

Lara punched Kurtis in the face. The force of the blow was so strong that he fell to the floor like a dead weight. She had to stifle a cry of pain as she massaged her bleeding knuckles; she had opened up her old boxing wound with that blow. Kurtis pushed himself up onto his elbows, but he did not attempt to stand up. His jacket was now hanging down at his elbows. Lara felt a stir of sympathy as she looked down at him and the blood now pouring down his face.

"Please, Kurtis," she said softly. "I-I can't do this again. We need to be strong."

Kurtis put a hand to his bloody face. Without meeting her eyes he shook his head and climbed back to his feet, shrugging his jacket roughly back over his shoulders.

"And since when do you get to decide that, Lara?" His voice was still angry, but she could sense deeper hurt there. "You just told me that you still love me. So excuse me if that was just some dated British slang that I don't understand. Or were you just getting caught up in the throes of passion?"

"Kurtis." Her voice rose in turn. "This is over, okay? I don't want you in my life anymore." She saw his whole demeanour change as she spoke the words, and she instantly regretted them. She lowered her voice. "This is what I do. My life, my work… I have to do this alone. It's the only way." Kurtis put a hand again to his bloodied face, but he did not reply. Lara looked at him achingly for a moment before she turned and opened the door.

"I'm sorry, Kurtis."

It took all of her strength for Lara to step out into the hallway and close the door firmly behind her. She got barely halfway down the murky corridor before she stopped and collapsed back against the wall, sliding down to the floor and burying her face in her hands. She had no idea how long she stayed there, struggling with indecision.

Her heart was pounding heavily in her chest.


	5. Reprise

_I have honestly lost count of the amount of times I have drafted and redrafted this chapter! I got the idea from a dream I had years and years ago and the entire story slowly grew from it, so you can see that my subconscious is a very strange bunny indeed. But also quite diabolical too.  
_

_But yes, I'm afraid my penchant for evil cliffhangers just continues. I've kept the events of this chapter a closely guarded secret for so long now that it feels very strange to be posting this, but it's also quite exciting! Please do let me know what you think. I really appreciate all the reviews and faves so much ^_^  
_

**XX****X**

The faucet came on with a dull creaking of pipes.

For a long time Kurtis watched the water as it streamed noisily into the sink, swirling about the basin with indifference. Then he gave a sigh, cupped some in his hands and set about washing the blood from his face.

As the water slowly turned red he studied his reflection in the mirror. There was a hard cut across the bridge of his nose, and bruising was starting to appear beneath his eyes. Kurtis had broken his nose plenty of times before, but this time it was different. Somehow the physical pain did not seem so intense.

At times like this Kurtis usually took his motorbike out for a spin. It was currently parked in the small courtyard outside his building, where it had sat covered over with a tarp for several weeks. Like most European cities he had visited over the last decade Prague was heavily congested, and during his stay here Kurtis had often found it easier to simply walk across Charles Bridge to reach the Strahov district upon the western bank.

It had been two years since he had begun following the police investigation into the ruins of the Strahov complex. Frustration had dogged him at every turn, for the case had been nothing but a mess of bureaucratic red tape. To finance his stay Kurtis had taken odd jobs on the side to pay the rent, most of which were not strictly legal. Several times he had also been found by the police sneaking around the Strahov in the dead of night. One day his impulsiveness would be the death of him.

The water soon ran clear again. With a grimace Kurtis steeled himself before snapping his broken nose back into place with a series of cracks; the pain of it forced him to steady himself against the edge of the sink to stop from passing out. As soon as the weak feeling in his legs had faded he turned off the faucet. There was a low creak from the doorway as he reached below the sink and fished out a towel.

Kurtis massaged his tender nose, wincing slightly as he felt the bruised flesh. As he carefully dried his face he took in the sight reflected in the mirror. He did not betray any emotion.

"Are you okay?"

Kurtis ignored her question as he folded up the bloodied towel and slung it across the edge of the sink.

"You're back," he muttered. Lara stood framed in the doorway behind him, one hand lingering against the door jamb. Kurtis met her eyes in the mirror as she quietly closed the door behind her.

"What do you want, Croft?" Kurtis turned and looked at her in disdain. "Please stop fucking me around and just come out with it. I'm getting tired of these games."

Lara did not answer at once. With her eyes cast down she walked the length of the room and approached him. Before Kurtis could react she had stepped right up to him, forcing him back against the sink. Her face was hovering just inches from his.

Kurtis grinned uneasily.

"So I take it that you changed your mind, then?"

Lara gave a wry smile as she reached out a hand to run her fingers through his wet hair. Kurtis closed his eyes and tried his best not to succumb to her touch, but he could feel the warmth of her form pressing against him so invitingly. Before long any resolve that he had once had simply crumbled.

Kurtis pulled her close and kissed her in despair, ignoring the pain from the injuries she had inflicted upon him. Before she could protest he had hoisted her up so that her legs encompassed his waist, and they both turned about and roughly slammed into the sink behind him. The mirror shook where it hung against the wall, and Kurtis accidentally knocked over the mug holding his razor.

Soon they had to break away for air, and Kurtis drew back and held Lara against him. The support of the sink was the only thing keeping them both upright at that moment; his knees had gone decidedly weak again.

"I know what you're gonna say," Kurtis told her. He was breathing hard. "This is just a glitch. Bit of comfort before you run back home again. And if I had any pride at all then I would…" He gave a sigh. "But that's the problem, isn't it? I have no pride when it comes to you."

She regarded him quietly for a moment.

"Just what every girl likes to hear."

Kurtis knew that the words had come out wrong, but before he could open his mouth to speak again he felt her finger brush against his lips.

"Let's not ruin the moment," she murmured.

And she pulled him back in for another kiss. Kurtis was surprised at how tender she was, and the way in which her hands came up to frame his face so delicately. He ran his own hands along the curve of her shoulders and down past her hips. Then he pulled her away from the sink and down onto the bed.

Lara's arms encompassed him as Kurtis kissed hungrily at her neck. Slowly her hands trailed across his back and along his shoulders, coming to brush lightly at the nape of his neck as they searched for purchase. When one hand found his throat he knew instinctively that something was wrong.

Kurtis opened his eyes with a start. His hand flew out and seized her wrist, and Lara suddenly froze beneath him. He stared at her in shock. Her face bore a soulless expression which chilled him to the bone. He had barely stopped her from snapping his neck.

"Lara?"

She smiled up at him.

"Not even close."

And before he knew what was happening her hands were wrapped about his throat, attempting to throttle the life out of him. With frightening strength she rose onto her knees and held him fast, and Kurtis gasped in terror as the world swiftly began to sink out of focus. Somehow he managed to find the strength to strike out and shove her roughly across the bed.

Violent coughs racked him as Kurtis drew breath again. Her hands had left terrible purple bruises forming at his throat, and tears were starting in his eyes as he leant heavily across the bedcovers and gazed up at her in distress.

"What the hell?" he cried. "Lara…?"

But she was not there. All she did was smile at him as the pallid colour rose up her body, followed by the eerie sight of black leather encircling limbs and traveling up into a well-defined collar.

"So," said Joachim Karel, "are you still happy to see me?"

**XX****X**

Kurtis just stared at him in horror, completely stunned at what he was seeing. He was so taken aback that he did not even register the fist which smashed into his jaw until he was sprawled senseless upon the carpet.

Karel sprang away from the bed with ease. He was dressed in the same leather jacket, dark gloves and blood red scarf that he had favoured so many years ago; his ghostly blonde hair was scraped back to reveal a pair of penetrating eyes which now gleamed with sadistic pleasure.

"I have to say," Karel said, still wearing that horrible smile, "I've had much better than that."

"Shut the fuck up!" Kurtis growled. As realisation hit him his expression turned from anger to complete disgust. He coughed and spluttered as pain exploded in his back, hauling himself to his feet with difficulty and stumbling towards the sink to gulp down copious amounts of water.

"What in the _fuck _is wrong with you?" Kurtis managed, once he had pulled away. "Jesus Christ…"

Karel stood quietly, continuing to smile as he watched Kurtis wipe the back of his mouth with his shirt sleeve. He seemed completely unmoved as he opened his jacket to reveal a wicked-looking knife resting in the inner pocket.

"How easily you mortals forget," he said.

At this sight Kurtis scrambled blindly along the windowsill behind him for his Boran X, but it was gone.

"Are you looking for this?"

Kurtis turned back to find Karel casually dangling the weapon in his hand by its trigger. As he watched the Nephilim opened the chamber and allowed all of the bullets to clatter uselessly to the floor. Then he tossed the gun away. Kurtis watched in distress as it slid underneath the bed, but his eyes also caught the glint which emanated from the dresser behind Karel.

The Periapt Shards.

Kurtis had always been an impressive liar, and somehow he managed to keep his face impassive as his eyes flickered back towards Karel.

"I thought you were dead," he muttered.

Karel drew out his knife and ran a lazy finger along its blade.

"Appearances can be deceiving," he said. "Then again, you've already learnt that tonight, haven't you?"

"Where is Lara?" Kurtis snarled. "If you've hurt her I swear to God…"

"She's alive, for now." Karel idly spun the knife between his fingers. "I passed her as she was walking down the stairwell. She seemed quite upset." He smiled again. "Just imagine how devastated she will be when she returns to find you dead…"

Kurtis did not care about the knife; he lunged blindly at Karel and tackled him about the waist. They both went crashing into the dresser as the knife clattered to the floor. Desperately Kurtis tried to grab one of the Periapt Shards, but Karel raised a hand again and blasted him across the room with a bolt of green energy.

This time Kurtis slammed hard into the far wall with a sickening thud. Karel climbed back to his feet and raised a gloved hand to his lip. It was bleeding profusely. Before him Kurtis tried and failed to stand up again, doubled over in pain as broken plaster rained down upon him.

"I _was_ just going to snap your neck," Karel said, lowering his hand, "but now I think I am going to make it a slow and painful death…"

His words trailed off as a faint whirring sound filled the room. Kurtis had struggled to his knees, and his eyes were now closed in intense concentration. The next moment they opened with a flash. The Chirugai swept across the room with a surge of orange sparks and leapt at his enemy's head.

Karel gave a sigh of displeasure, reaching up and snatching the bladed disc from the air with ease. The weapon jerked and quivered heavily in his hand, struggling to escape from his grasp, but it was no use. Kurtis' connection with the weapon faltered and broke as Karel calmly crushed it in his palm. The pieces fell to the floor like shattered glass.

"Mortals," Karel quipped. "You're all so fragile."

Kurtis stared at the remnants of his Chirugai in horror. That weapon had been forged generations ago from Ferilium, a rare meteorite alloy. It was supposed to be unstoppable; it was also all that he had left of his father. At this thought Kurtis' gaze flashed towards the Periapt Shards again.

Karel must have noticed this, because he raised his hand and sent another blast of energy across the room. This time Kurtis was ready for him.

The sound of splintering plaster filled the air as he ducked and rolled out of its path just in time. The resulting blast tore a gaping hole in the wall behind him, and Kurtis roughly clambered back to his feet.

"I've gotta say," he riposted, "you immortals are extremely predictable."

And Kurtis landed a brutal punch which brought the Nephilim down onto his knees. As his fist came down again, however, Karel simply caught it in his outstretched palm. He reared back and punched Kurtis hard in the mouth, and then followed this blow with a kick to the ribs so violent that Kurtis was left sprawled upon the carpet, gasping in agony.

Slowly Karel stepped around his opponent and retrieved the discarded knife. Kurtis was still struggling for breath as Karel pulled him roughly onto his knees, grabbing a handful of his hair and twisting it round and round until it was pulled so taut that Kurtis gave a cry.

Karel trailed the knife roughly along Kurtis' cheek.

"I think," Karel said, punctuating his words with a slash, "I want to leave a mark on your corpse. My own personal calling card, if you will. Just like the Monstrum." He laughed at this. "What a fool Eckhardt was. He had you. He knew you were Lux Veritatis…" Kurtis winced. A rivulet of blood trickled down his neck. "And yet some people cannot see what is right in front of them."

Karel drew back the blood-stained knife. Then he seized Kurtis' arm and hauled him to his feet, shoving him across the room and up against the dresser in the corner. A few oddments fell off and broke, and one of the drawers was jammed up painfully against Kurtis' ribs. The Periapt Shards mocked him with their proximity, but Kurtis could not reach for them. One arm was wrenched painfully behind his back, whilst the other was pinioned firmly between Karel's chest and the dresser.

"I was there, you know," Karel continued. "On the bridge tonight. I watched you as you ran from the police." He stilled Kurtis' struggles and smiled widely. "I've been watching you for months. You were completely oblivious. And then you brought your girlfriend back into the picture…"

"Her name," Kurtis said through clenched teeth, "is _Lara_."

"Yes, of course." Karel tilted his head. "I suppose it is painful for you to argue semantics when she obviously does not return your love-"

"Shut up." Kurtis could barely contain his anger. "You have no fucking clue what you are talking about."

Karel shook his head.

"Oh no, I really do. I see more than you might think." Karel twisted the man's arm a little higher, eliciting a sharp cry of pain, and then he dragged Kurtis roughly towards the sink.

"Can you see now?"

Kurtis gazed reluctantly into the mirror before him. On his right cheek Karel had carved a crude pentagram which was dripping blood in a steady stream down past his collar. Karel drew close and licked his neck with a satisfied growl, savouring the taste of his blood and his fear. Kurtis struggled a little, but he could not get free.

"What's wrong?" said Karel. "Do you not wish to face the truth?"

"What are you talking about?"

Karel drew in close and then whispered: "You're part Nephilim."

"Bullshit."

"Where do you think the Lux Veritatis got their powers from?" said Karel. "Did you ever wonder why they waged war against the Nephilim for centuries? They were outcasts, traitors. They mixed with infidels. Their blood became tainted, but they retained some semblance of their powers." He met Kurtis' eyes in the mirror. "In your blood there is untapped potential. A shame, really. You could have been something magnificent."

"Magnificent?" Kurtis laughed. "Like you? All you are is a magnificent piece of-"

Karel seized him by the collar and slammed him hard against the wall. A picture frame shook dangerously upon its hangings nearby.

"Hold your tongue," Karel hissed. "Because of you, because of your order, my race is _dead_. _I_ was almost dead. And then I saw Ms. Croft. She led me out of that desolation. I was nothing but a shadow of my true form, but then I came upon the blood that you had left behind. It sustained me, gave me new life. Soon I craved it. I knew that with it I would regain my full powers, once I had recovered my strength." He ran a finger threateningly along the blade of his knife. "And now I get to drain the rest of it."

Kurtis kicked backwards off the wall and swung for Karel's head. The knife went flying, but his enemy dodged the blow and pain exploded across Kurtis' back. He fell to his knees with a grunt. Karel dropped to his knees and imprisoned him in a headlock.

"Do _not _try anything like that again," he snarled.

Kurtis managed to laugh, despite the pressure on his throat. He licked his lips and whispered: "You can't run from death forever, asshole."

Karel did not answer, but he did release his hold. Kurtis collapsed onto his knees, coughing loudly. In the reprieve which followed the flash of the knife caught his eye, immersed in a pool of his own blood. Vainly he reached out a hand towards it. Karel blocked his path and stomped down upon his outstretched fingers with a tut.

Kurtis recoiled with a scream of pain. Two of his fingers were broken, and he cradled his ruined hand to his chest as Karel bent down before him and recovered the knife. The Nephilim straightened again as he spun the blade lazily between his fingertips.

"Well then," he said. "I guess I'll see you in hell."

And Karel struck out and violently slashed Kurtis across the throat with his knife. Blood went everywhere; it splattered across the walls and stained the tattered carpet red. Kurtis seemed to hang there for an eternity as blood congealed at the gaping chasm below his jaw, and then his body jerked and fell heavily to the floor.

A sudden silence fell, marked only by the steady dripping of blood upon the carpet. Karel reached into his pocket and took out a silk handkerchief to wipe at his lip. Slowly he knelt down and dipped a corner of his handkerchief into the blood rapidly pooling beneath the body at his feet.

For a good few minutes he remained motionless, balanced perfectly upon his ankles, before standing up and striding over to the Periapt Shards resting upon the dresser. He ran a reverent hand over the etchings on their surface. It had been two years since he had held one of the Periapt Shards in his hands. Two years since he had taken one by the handle and plunged it into the forehead of his moronic puppet, Pieter Van Eckhardt.

Karel slipped the three Shards inside his jacket with immense satisfaction. The keys to his own destruction finally lay in his possession, and that was where he intended for them to stay. It now only remained to dispose of the last person who knew of his existence.


	6. Conviction

_If I had a penny for the amount of fist-shakey reviews I received for the last chapter... then I'd have a whole bunch of pennies! I'm so glad that the plot twist(s) came as a huge shock to everyone and that I didn't accidentally give anything away prematurely :D I do love it when a plan comes together _•_chomps on a cigar_•

_Alas, I am afraid that evil happenings are still afoot. I did warn you that this story was going to be dark_...

**XX****X**

The Church of Our Lady Victorious loomed before her, an imposing shadow set starkly against the skyline. It was a magnificent Baroque building, heavily whitewashed and topped with an ornate spire which reminded Lara of her last visit to St. Petersburg. A set of stone steps led up to its double doors, and above the entrance hung an image of the Virgin Mary beset with golden stars. Before it the tree-lined grass verge was dusted with the light snow that had fallen that day.

Lara did not know how or why her feet had brought her here. She was not exactly the religious type, and had failed to attend church since she had been to finishing school at the age of eighteen. There she had increasingly found ways to duck out of prayer service whenever the opportunity presented itself. Now she studied the opening hours next to the doors of the church in frustration. It had been closed for hours. She had been hoping to slip inside for a late service and find a quiet corner in which to collect her thoughts, but the night had slipped away before she knew it.

Lara descended the stone steps in defeat, her bomber jacket and her satchel swinging forlornly from her folded arms. Her thoughts were swirling in confusion as she settled down upon one of the benches in front of the church. It was extremely late. A roadblock at the end of Karmelinska Street meant that the area was devoid of traffic—despite the tram lines which ran parallel with the sidewalk—yet the lights of the city were so bright in the distance that Lara could not make out any stars in the night sky.

It soon grew cold. Lara slipped first one arm and then another inside the warmth of her fur-lined bomber jacket and pulled it close. It was the same jacket she had worn so comfortably during her adventures in Tibet. She sighed at the memory; it felt so distant and almost surreal. It was as if that woman had not been her, or at least not as she now knew herself to be. Lara would give anything to have that kind of innocence again.

She put her head in her hands and smoothed back her hair, burying her face in her lap. It wasn't long before she felt the tears beginning to fall. As she wept Lara failed to notice something moving in the shadows across the street.

Often in recent years Lara had tried to blame her troubles upon her experiences in Egypt, but somewhere deep down she had been running on empty long before she had stepped foot in the French capital with that emotional baggage in tow. In those few short months she had spent cloistered up in Prague, however, something had changed irrevocably.

Lara worked alone. That was the way it had always been, and the way she had expected it to remain. But Kurtis was different. He knew her struggle. He understood her like no one else ever had, and he did not patronize her because of her celebrity. She had never met anybody like him before, and yet the feelings he evoked in her frightened Lara immensely. She had never truly been in love before - had relationships, yes, but she had never experienced that real and messy kind of love that no amount of life experience could prepare you for. Not for the first time since Egypt Lara had felt the weight of her own mortality pressing upon her.

Footsteps echoed from across the street. Lara lifted her head with bloodshot eyes; self-consciously she smoothed her hair as she searched for the source of the noise.

"Kurtis?" she murmured softly.

She did not receive an answer. With a quiet sniffle Lara turned this way and that to check if anybody was there, but the street appeared to be empty. A strange sense of foreboding suddenly washed over her, although she could not explain it.

Her satchel sat upon the bench beside her. Cautiously Lara reached inside it and removed a pistol from its depths. Her well-worn gun license had served her well when arriving to check in for her flight at Heathrow, along with her story that she intended to take advantage of the Czech hunting season. Many of the blue-blooded aristocrats she had mingled with in her earlier years had spoken of the quality of the hunt in this country.

The sound of footsteps came again, but this time from right behind her. Lara turned with a start to find Kurtis standing beneath the trees before the church, half immersed in shadow. For a moment she did not know what to say.

"Kurtis?" she ventured quietly.

"You've been crying." He did not move towards her. He simply stood there, his expression hidden in the darkness.

Lara lifted a sleeve to her face and brushed away her tears in shame. She had never let anybody see her cry before. She had always put on a façade of strength around others. Not even Kurtis had seen her tears during those intense few months she had lost herself in this city.

"No." Her heart was not in the lie, but she did not let her doubt seep into her words. "No, I haven't. I'm fine, Kurtis. I'm just waiting for my taxi to take me to the airport."

"So you're leaving then?"

Lara nodded, her eyes glistening with resolve. The snow crunched softly beneath his boots as Kurtis strode across the grass and emerged into the light of a nearby streetlamp. She saw now that his nose was pouring with blood and both his eyes were bruised and blackened; Lara was frightened by how terrible he looked. Surely she had not caused all of that damage with just one punch? She suddenly felt incredibly guilty for what she had done.

"Please, Kurtis," she said. "I don't want to fight again. I've said everything I needed to say."

"Is that so?"

"Yes." Her voice strengthened a little. "Yes, Kurtis. I don't want to do this anymore. It's too hard."

He came a little closer. Lara abandoned her satchel and stood up from the bench, careful to keep it as an obstacle between the two of them. The distant sound of traffic carried faintly upon the breeze, but Kurtis did not answer her. Her pistol hung forgotten at her side as Lara turned and started to walk away in the opposite direction. She soon heard footsteps following her.

"Stay away from me," she said. A shadow flitted across her path. Lara stopped dead and found Kurtis standing in front of her, blocking her path. Her back was now to the church steps. "I'm serious, Kurtis. I need to go."

He still did not answer her. There was an evil look in his eyes as he stepped in a little closer as if to kiss her. Lara jerked back and brandished her pistol. There was a loud click as she released the safety and aimed it at his chest.

"I am not kidding, Kurtis," she whispered, staring hard into his eyes. "Back the hell off." Her hands were shaking. The look in his eyes truly frightened her. There was simply no emotion there at all.

"What's wrong, Lara?" His face twisted in a hideous smile. "Feeling guilty about something?"

And Kurtis turned back and violently shoved the bench upon its side. It crashed to the ground and made Lara jump in fright. She retained enough of her senses to keep her gun trained upon Kurtis, but she could barely make any sense of what was happening. She had never known him to be this angry before.

"I'm sorry that I hit you," she conceded. "You didn't deserve that. But I just-"

"You filthy whore!" he snarled. "Is that all I am to you? Just flesh?" As his voice rose in anger his features began to change. A crude pentagram gradually faded into being upon his right cheek, and blood trickled steadily from its five points and ran down to stain his shirt collar. "I mean, you claimed to love this man, and yet you just left him there to die…"

Lara's eyes widened in horror as a horrific gash opened up along his throat. It yawned wide and poured blood as he spoke once more in an anguished voice: "How could you do that to me, Lara?"

**XX****X**

Lara stumbled backwards in shock, her gun clattering uselessly from her hands. The image of Kurtis before her gave a chilling smile, and then suddenly his features slid away. Standing before her now was Joachim Karel. He lifted a gloved hand to his face and touched his cheek, making any traces of the bloody pentagram vanish instantly.

"The human façade," he mused. "It still amazes me how affecting it can be."

Lara stared at him in complete and utter shock. For a long time she could not even speak. Karel shook his head and took a firm step towards her.

"Well, now. It is not everyday that Lara Croft is stunned into silence. Do you not have something clever to say?"

Lara's voice faltered as she spoke.

"W-What did you do to Kurtis?" When Karel did not answer her, she swallowed past the lump in her throat and said again: "Where is he?"

"He is right where you left him." Karel reached into the pocket of his jacket and withdrew a silk handkerchief. It was soaked through with blood. He read the question in Lara's eyes before she even had a chance to voice it. "I would say that he did not suffer to spare your feelings, but that would be a lie." He smiled again. "And I do so enjoy causing you pain."

"Stop it." Lara's eyes were threatening tears again, but a bitter anger laced her words. Karel shrugged and then returned the handkerchief to his inner pocket.

"I don't believe you," she whispered.

Karel studied her closely for a moment, clearly amused, and then opened his jacket again and reached inside for something else. Lara tensed for a moment, fearing that he had a gun of his own, but instead he pulled out a familiar weapon with a burnished blade and strange etchings along its handle. Lara's eyes widened at the sight.

"I must thank you both, really, for going to the trouble of retrieving them for me." Karel returned the Periapt Shard to his inner pocket, his eyes never leaving Lara's face. "I have waited so long to hold them again."

As he spoke Lara's eyes darted towards the gun lying forgotten on the ground between them, but Karel had not forgotten it. He casually kicked it aside and sent it skittering across the street. It was much too far away for her to reach now.

"Let's not spoil this moment," Karel said. "I have waited such a long time to regain my full strength."

Then he raised his hand before Lara could react. A white hot flame sprang into being from the centre of his palm, and the world around her became instantly silent. It was as if somebody had turned off a volume switch. There was a sudden flash as energy crackled all around her, beginning as a small orb and then expanding to strike out in all directions as a solid shield swept out across the entire street.

The force of the energy expended nearly knocked Lara off her feet. With a crack the noise and lights of the city returned with a startling suddenness. As she regained her footing Lara glanced about anxiously, the fear evident in her expression.

"Do not trouble yourself," said Karel. "That was just a little something to ensure we do not wake up the neighbours." The Nephilim clenched a fist at his side, flexing the muscles in his arm. "I do so hate to be disturbed."

Lara had no chance to defend herself. Karel reared back and punched her hard, sending her sailing through the air. She slammed painfully into the steps before the church and sprawled down them like a rag doll. Karel surveyed her calmly as he slowly advanced upon her with deliberate steps. She turned onto her back with a moan of agony.

"No one can hear you," he said, coming to tower over her. "Feel free to scream all that you like. It took me two years to regain my strength from our last battle, but only a few drops of Lux Veritatis blood to restore my powers of old." He chuckled a little. "This entire street is now shielded from the world outside. Nobody will hear or see you suffer. Nobody will watch as you die."

He squatted down beside her. Lara raised a shaking hand to her bruised cheek, but she did not answer him. All of the breath had been knocked out of her lungs.

"Have you forgotten our last fight?" he said. "I guess so. Two years can seem like an eternity in this mortal coil." Karel was leaning in close now, taunting her. "Do you even think about all those you have killed? It must run into double digits by now. And not one of them warranted even a second glance. No wonder you never bothered to come back and finish what we started."

Despite the shame and helplessness that Lara felt a surge of anger blazed within her. She lifted her chin defiantly and spat blood onto the steps with a grimace. Her jaw was throbbing from his punch.

"That's very rich coming from a psychopath like you," she bit back. "Don't tell me you're having a moral crisis after living like us for so long." Her expression hardened as she pushed herself up with the palms of her hands, wincing slightly at the pain in her back. "Life is hard. People fight. They _move on_." Her words became heated as she felt her conviction strengthen. "Your race is extinct, Karel. Get over it."

He seized her by the throat with a snarl. Lara let out a strangled cry as she tried to prise his hands away, but she did not have the strength. Karel pulled her in close and lifted her up with frightening strength so that her feet were dangling helplessly in the air. They were now almost face-to-face.

"Somehow," Karel said with a smile, "I think I am going to enjoy killing _you_ just a little bit more."

Lara's eyes flickered with fear as his grip upon her throat tightened. She thought that she might pass out, but then Karel turned around and flung her through the glass-paneled door behind them.

The sound of breaking glass engulfed the air. Lara landed hard and crumpled upon the floor of the Church of Our Lady Victorious, barely conscious. Karel stepped through the ruined entrance after her. As he went he carelessly kicked aside the splintered remnants of wood which had once made up the doorway.

The empty church was very dark. Only the moonlight shining through the high windows served to illuminate the rich interior sweeping up towards a vaulted ceiling. A series of elaborate altars dominated the nave, each inlaid with golden insignia and images of Carmelite saints. Lara opened her eyes with a gasp to find herself staring up at a bejewelled chandelier, with shards of glass piercing her back and her hands. A long gash ran across her forehead and blood ran into her eyes. She grimaced at the pain which throbbed throughout her being and attempted to stand, but her legs simply buckled beneath her. She was lucky not to have been thrown into one of the wooden pews.

Slow deliberate footsteps echoed throughout the church. Lara knew that nobody was coming to help her. She was completely at Karel's mercy as he appeared in front of her. The smile was now gone from his face.

"Where is your God?" He gestured mockingly with his arms. "I thought this was his house, but he does not seem to be in."

Through the fog in her mind Lara somehow struggled on, dragging herself backwards until she could rest her back against one of the ornate pews. Sharp pains were shooting down her right arm.

"I am just like you, Ms. Croft," Karel continued. "I know your type. You like to hide in the shadows, never clinging to anything for long. You fear that it shall all be cruelly ripped away." He stopped in his tracks. Lara stared up at him from her place upon the floor. She was no longer fighting. "But that is the crux of the problem, is it not? Death stalks you from the beginning. It is just a matter of time before it finds you." His hand began to glow with green energy. "And yet some small part of you welcomes it."

Lara was utterly spent. More tears were threatening to fall as she bowed her head. She wished that she could deny his words, but deep down she knew that he was right. And there it was: that deep-seated truth she had spent so many years trying to suppress. It hit her with the strength of a locomotive.

And then there was Kurtis…

A sense of calm suddenly washed over her. The crackle of green energy filled the church as Lara closed her eyes in resignation. She no longer felt the pain of her injuries, or the tears now falling freely down her face. She no longer cared.

Lara Croft embraced her death wish.


	7. Awakening

_I'm so sorry for the delay in getting this up! I recently started back at university and my schedule has been so hectic I haven't had a whole lot of free time. There was also a ton of editing that needed to be done on this and it took a lot longer to finish than I predicted._

_Having said that I hope this chapter was worth the wait :) Thanks once again for all of the encouraging reviews, guys. There is just one more chapter of this story left so if there are any lingering questions then they shall soon be answered. Or will they? Curiouser and curiouser..._

**XX****X**

As her own tomb had crumbled around her Lara was consumed with terror. She felt no such fear now.

Death. Desert. Destruction. They had haunted her dreams for so long, she did not know how to live without the shadow of death hanging over her. Everybody that she loved was gone. It would be so easy to join them, to simply give up and embrace oblivion.

Karel raised his glowing hand.

"Send my regards to your lover," he said.

Lara's heart was racing despite the calm of her thoughts. The air pulsated with heat as Karel set loose the searing blast of energy. She could feel it bearing down upon her as it scorched the line of carpeting beneath her feet.

Death beckoned her once again. This time she was ready for it.

Lara opened her eyes.

"Send them yourself."

She picked herself up and dove aside to avoid the blast. Green energy smashed into the pew behind her and shattered it into pieces. The force of the blast propelled Lara clear across the space and slammed her into the opposite wall, knocking over several icons resting upon one of the side altars. Nothing but a smoking hole remained where she had been only a few seconds earlier.

Lara tried desperately to stand up again, but her back was in agony. Somehow she managed to latch a hand onto the edge of the altar behind her and pull herself towards it. She could not see Karel for the cloud of smoke which now arose from the gaping hole in the floor, but she knew that he was nearby. She would die if she did not reach a weapon soon. She knew that she needed to live through this.

Shards of glass still pierced her hands and her back. Lara felt the blood running down between her fingertips as she hauled herself onwards, dropping down onto her knees to crawl along behind one of the pews. Karel had focused a lot of power into his attack. Perhaps his energy would be spent. Perhaps she might be able to head him off at the pass and retrieve her gun from the street outside.

"Where are you going?"

Any thoughts of escape were cut short as a hand seized Lara by the throat. She choked in terror as Karel's sneering face loomed over her. His grasping fingers tightened as she was dragged unwillingly onto her knees.

"Why do you both insist on making me hurt you so?" he hissed. "Why do you wish to suffer instead?"

Lara's theory about his powers did not seem to hold much weight. Darkness was beginning to overwhelm her vision as she felt herself being dragged from the glass-strewn floor with frightening strength. In desperation she kicked out and caught Karel in the stomach with the heel of her boot. It was not a particularly powerful blow, but it caused Karel to stumble backwards and release his grip in surprise. Lara landed hard as he dropped her to the floor, and her legs crumpled beneath her.

Her lungs were on fire as Lara struggled for breath, scrambling backwards in her desperation to get away from Karel. Pain was still shooting down her right arm.

"Give it up, mortal," Karel scoffed. "You are only delaying the inevitable."

Her hands were slippery with blood as Lara reached out and snatched up something beneath her. As Karel bore down upon her she rose onto her knees and lashed out with the shard of glass in her fist.

It made contact with more than just air, and Karel gave a hideous shriek. The shard of glass fell ringing from Lara's hand. Blood began to pour from a horrible gash which ran all the way down to Karel's chin. It had barely missed his eye.

"What I can say?" Lara retorted fiercely. "I guess I had an epiphany."

Karel staggered blindly as Lara hauled back and slugged him in the face. He went down hard. She ignored the pain screaming down her arm as she threw herself on top of him, plunging her hand inside his jacket as she searched desperately for one of the Periapt Shards. It was not long before her fingers brushed against a cold hilt. Before she could grasp it Karel seized her pale wrist and pulled her towards him.

Blood was running freely down the side of his face. In the moonlight his sinister expression was only enhanced by the shadows playing across his features. He held her fast and savagely twisted her wrist with a gloved hand. Lara bit back a gasp. She thought that the bones in her injured arm might break.

"I can see why my race insisted on taking human brides," Karel growled in a low voice, staring deep into her frightened eyes. "So much pleasure to tame."

He kissed her furiously then, his mouth crushed violently against hers. Before she could even react he had shoved her aside and leapt back to his feet with a triumphant smirk.

Lara lay sprawled upon her side, raising the back of a palm to her mouth in disgust. She felt dizzy from pain and just a little bit sick. Above her Karel touched a hand to the bloody gash which ran across his features, his jaw set in frustration. Lara watched in abject horror as the gash closed up and vanished beneath his fingertips, leaving nothing but a line of dripping blood without origin.

Karel had healed himself with only a touch. It was hopeless.

**XX****X**

Lara dragged herself backwards upon her bleeding hands, cradling her right arm to her chest with a sharp intake of breath. Despair washed over her as she collapsed back against another pew. She was running on nothing but pure adrenaline. Her face may have been tear-streaked, however, but she was not crying now.

Karel observed her quietly as his hand dropped back to his side. It seemed as if he was about to say something for a moment, but instead he turned around and approached the altar at the head of the church. It was an elaborate structure, mounted with saintly icons and topped with a crown and sceptred cross flanked by angels. Moonlight streamed down from a window set on high as Karel paused before the altar, running a reverent hand across the head of one of these angels. A few dust motes sparkled in the air above his head as they caught the shaft of moonlight.

"Then the Lord saw that the wickedness of man was great on the earth," Karel intoned, "and that every intent of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually. And the Lord was sorry that he had made man on the earth, and it grieved him to his heart."

Lara watched as Karel reached inside his jacket and withdrew the three Periapt Shards. He left two of them resting upon the altar as he turned around and advanced upon her with the third. It began to glow with a strange blue light as he approached, just as it had done during that final battle in the Strahov so long ago. Lara realised what this meant with frightening clarity: the person wielding it was preparing to strike a final blow.

Somehow she pushed herself up onto her knees and punched Karel with all of her might. It did not even slow him down. Her injured arm buckled under the strain of her exhaustion as she attempted to throw another punch. Karel simply caught her bloody fist in his palm. In his other he held aloft the Periapt Shard.

"Did you think it would be so easy?" he hissed. Lara stifled a cry as his fingers tightened their grip and he wrenched her arm behind her back. Karel pulled her close to his chest as she felt the hiss of the cold dagger at her throat. "You cannot fight this, Ms. Croft. A sacrifice is needed. Those who destroyed the Sleeper and doomed my race to extinction must pay the price for their folly. Then the entire world shall burn."

The blade of the Periapt Shard broke skin and drew blood. Lara grimaced in pain and then threw back her neck, smashing Karel in the forehead with the back of her skull.

He let her go with a howl of pain. Her loosening braid whipped across her shoulder as Lara spun around and kicked the Nephilim squarely in the chest. She followed this up with a fierce kick to his face which brought Karel down heavily onto one knee.

"I'm not quite sure you understand the meaning of 'extinction'," Lara shot back. She touched a hand to her injured neck as her opponent struggled again to his feet, the Periapt Shard still clutched in his hand. "Keep pushing me and I will gladly clarify it for you."

"You bitch," he snarled at her.

Lara raised her eyebrows in contempt.

"Perhaps it's just me," she said, "but I think that there are some _serious_ abandonment issues you need to work through."

Karel growled in displeasure as his human features slid away. It was not long before his pale skin was covered in the grotesque markings and indentations of a true Nephilim. Rage burned in his red eyes as he raised the Periapt Shard. His hair had turned a shocking white.

"Enough of this charade," he said. "Let us end this."

Lara stood firm. A smile quirked at her lips.

"Catch me if you can."

And as he came at her again Lara dodged his frantic blows and spun around, landing another hard kick to his midsection. His momentum remained unchecked in his anger. Lara dropped and avoided a second blow with the Shard, rolling with each of his lunges, feinting left and right in order to keep him on his feet. If she could tire him out then he might make a fatal mistake in his anger. It was her only chance.

Yet this game of cat and mouse could not last forever. Lara felt a vicious blow narrowly miss her head as she dodged another of Karel's lunges. She staggered and her rhythm faltered. Karel snatched a fistful of her hair. Lara was brutally yanked backwards with a cry. The pain of it brought tears to her eyes as Karel forced her down onto her knees before him.

If this was death she would face it with her head held high. Her last fleeting thought was of Karel's face twisted in anger above her as he raised the glowing dagger. It flashed sharply in the moonlight.

"Die!" he screamed.

A blast pierced the still air. Lara blinked in confusion as hot blood sprayed across her face. It was not hers. Karel gave a grunt of pain. The glow emanating from the Shard dissipated, and the weapon fell and clattered to the floor.

At first Lara thought that death had already claimed her, and that she was lingering in the beyond with those other lost souls who had died this day. How else could she explain the sight now before her? She tried vainly to calm her rising dread as her eyes focused upon the figure standing in the doorway of the church.

It was Kurtis.

**XX****X**

Dark blood ran down his neck and past his collar, staining the white shirt beneath his leather jacket an ugly shade of red. The pentagram upon his cheek was steadily dripping blood as his chest rose and fell in anger. He looked to her like a ghost, his features pale and heavily drawn. Those eyes, however, told a different story. She saw a spark there which frightened her more than anything. She knew that look of vengeance; she had worn it ever since she had been buried in that Egyptian tomb. It was the look of someone living who was already dead.

Kurtis' hands were trembling as he blasted off another shot with Lara's discarded gun. Karel collapsed to his knees as the bullet ripped into his chest. A third blast slammed into his left arm and harmlessly ricocheted, leaving a blackened bullet track an inch from one of her boots. Lara stared in disbelief as Kurtis lowered the smoking gun. Blood billowed across Karel's chest and painted a bloody swathe across the floor. It seemed that immortals did bleed after all.

Lara did not waste a second snapping out of her stupor. She lunged for the Periapt Shard lying nearby and struggled back to her feet. A feral yell ripped from her throat as she thrust the Periapt Shard into Karel's chest.

Her yell cut short as Lara stared down into Karel's eyes. They were haunted and pained in his death rattle. She had buried the Shard in his flesh right up to the burnished hilt. It was just inches from his heart.

Lara took a faltering step backwards. Her sweat-soaked hair was falling across her face as she pulled a difficult breath. Karel choked and rasped as blood rose gurgling to his throat. Blue energy crackled and leapt in sparking bolts from the Shard as it protruded from his chest. There was a disquieting look upon Karel's face which gave her sudden pause.

"Lara?"

A small gasp escaped her as Kurtis touched his hand to her shoulder. It felt strangely cold against her warm skin. Lara turned in disbelief and met his blue eyes. She could hardly believe that he was real.

"It's okay," he said. "I got you. Where are the other Shards?"

Her answer caught in her throat. She simply nodded her head in the direction of the main altar. Kurtis gently squeezed her shoulder and then slipped away from her side to retrieve the Shards. Lara remained inert where she stood.

Blood was running down his arm as Kurtis pushed the gun into the waistband of his trousers. A dull clattering echoed about the church as he rummaged amongst the articles sitting upon the main altar. The fingers of his right hand looked mangled beyond comprehension.

Eventually Kurtis turned back again, clutching a Periapt Shard in either hand like two daggers. He approached Lara without a word and paused before Karel where the Nephilim knelt, his face frozen in a rictus of pain.

The church was deathly silent. If Karel was attempting to speak then the words were lost as Kurtis towered over him, casting his shrinking form in shadow. The grip he had upon each Shard was so strong that Lara could see every tendon in his pale fists standing out like vines.

"You son of a bitch," he said quietly. "I saved you a seat in hell."

Kurtis stepped back and slammed the Periapt Shard deep into Karel's chest. This time it stuck in his flesh even past the hilt. Kurtis wrenched his bloody hand free with a grunt, leaving the Periapt Shard quivering where it had lodged in Karel's chest. The Nephilim's face was twisted in silent agony.

Kurtis' shoulders were heaving with effort at the power he had focused into that last blow. Lara studied him warily, her face flecked with blood.

"Kurtis," she said. "Are you okay?"

He simply stood there, the final Periapt Shard hanging at his side. He was staring down at Karel without a hint of pity. She noticed that his hands were still trembling.

Lara reached out and touched her fingers to Kurtis' bloody wrist. He did not resist her movements, but glanced down as Lara's hand slowly enveloped his own. With a nod she indicated the Periapt Shard nestled in their entwined hands.

Their linked arms rose in unison. Blue light engulfed the Shard as they turned back to Karel and plunged it into his forehead, right between the eyes. It slammed home with a violent flash of energy.

This time Karel did make a sound. An abominable howl escaped from his throat, echoing about the church and reverberating for several moments before it died. Lara and Kurtis both staggered backwards after delivering this final blow.

The triad of Periapt Shards ignited with a blue glow. The resultant light branched off from the hilt of each and shot off in different directions, linking each Shard with a line of living flame and converging into a symbol which resembled a spearhead. It was the symbol of the Lux Veritatis.

The symbol vanished with a flash. Karel threw back his head and screamed towards the heavens as a blinding white light engulfed him and shot out from his eyes. It arched upwards and blasted an immense hole in the ceiling far above. Lara's hair was swept back as the winds came whistling in through this gaping fissure.

It was not long before Karel's body began to shudder and disintegrate. At this point Lara seized a fistful of Kurtis' leather jacket, pulling him back towards the safety of a pew near the ruined doors of the entrance. Kurtis did not protest but seemed to come almost unwillingly, his eyes fixed upon Karel as he writhed around in his agony. Lara tugged at his sleeve and forced him to crouch down beside her. She could have simply fled into the night and left this desolation behind, but Lara did not wish to make the same mistake twice. This time she had to see Karel's destruction for herself.

A dull rumbling echoed throughout the church, disturbing the artefacts upon the main altar and the golden icons affixed to those which lined the walls. They both watched in awe as the white energy reached a crescendo of noise and heat. Karel's dying scream echoed in their memories long after the energy had finally vaporized the Nephilim into a pile of ash. In the silence which followed the Periapt Shards clattered to a rest beside the dark shadow that had once marked his presence.

Slowly Lara came to her feet, staring at that place where the Nephilim had once been. Her knees felt so weak she thought she might collapse at any moment. She stood frozen in place as Kurtis rose beside her. Shattered wood and plaster continued to fall in bits and pieces and drift down from the ruined ceiling above. It looked like the wreckage of a bomb site.

It was not until the sirens rose in the distance that reality crashed down around them. Karel was dead. His barrier was long gone.

And so they ran.


	8. Eternity

_Better late than never I guess! :D I am really sorry it took so long to get the last chapter of this story posted. Basically I could not bear to part with it unless I was 100% happy and I kept tweaking the dialogue up until the very last minute. I've been writing this fic on and off for several years now and overall it's been a very cathartic experience for me. Thank you everyone for all of the reviews and faves and PMs about this story - I really cherish all of the feedback and hope that you enjoy reading this ending as much as I enjoyed writing it._

_AoD was my first ever fandom and although I have no current plans to write any more new stories I have been very busy revising my old fic _Slouching Toward Bethlehem, _so make sure to check that out. I should warn you though that it is not yet finished and there are a few canonical inconsistencies between the old and new chapters I hope to be able to fix soon. I'm hoping to do the same for its sequel in the future. You never know - one day I may even finish it! *lol*_

**XXX**

The lights of a police car flashed forlornly where it stood abandoned in the street below. Its roof was dusted by a fresh layer of snow. More continued to drift from the sky above to settle upon the frozen ground of the deserted backstreet. The wail of sirens had died long ago.

Lara and Kurtis stood upon the roof of a neighbouring building, watching unnoticed as the coroners took photographs and collected samples from the crime scene that had once been his apartment. The curtains of the open window billowed in a cold gust of wind. Lara registered it all in a daze. Just hours earlier she had been sleeping in that bed. She had braided her hair as she stood before the mirror. Now she was staring at a carpet soaked through with blood. Here and there she saw signs of a struggle: pieces of dislocated furniture, a scorched hole in the bedroom wall. The pieces of the shattered Chirugai glittered in the light reflected from the street outside. Dried blood splattered the walls. It was like something from a horror movie.

"Someone must have called the cops," Kurtis said. "But when they arrived I was long gone. Gonna be a difficult murder to solve without a body."

Lara shook her head.

"I don't understand."

Kurtis touched a hand to his jaw. An angry red line was now all that remained of the horrific gash that had once spilled his lifeblood. There was a haunted look to his eyes that she knew well. It was the same look she had often seen reflected in her own expression.

"Neither do I," he said. "All I remember is waking up with blood plastering the side of my face. My mouth was full of the taste of it. You know when you've been knocked senseless and you just lie there, watching everything glisten like a spinning top? I was watching my own blood dripping into the carpet. I could feel it draining away with every heartbeat. I couldn't understand why I wasn't dead."

Lara felt a chill run down her spine. She knew the feeling well. She hugged her bomber jacket close as she gazed down at the busy scene below. Once they were convinced they had escaped the notice of the authorities Kurtis had brought her here to witness the bloody desolation of his apartment. It all seemed like some horrible dream.

"Now I understand why my father was so secretive," Kurtis said quietly. "He was ashamed of the truth. The Lux Veritatis were descended from the Nephilim all along." Lara started in surprise at this revelation, her hair blowing loosely about her face. "They harnessed their powers to fight the Shadow War against the Cabal. The Chirugai was one of their weapons. Its power source was the essence of the Nephilim - I reached out and felt it bond with something inside me."

Kurtis lifted a hand from one of the Periapt Shards at his belt. She imagined for a moment that she could see right through his skin, to the newly imbued blood flowing through his veins. Of course it had always been there, powering his latent abilities since birth, but now that he knew the truth there was a certain majesty about him that Lara had never noticed before. He turned his hand over and closed it into a pale fist. She wondered if he was reliving those final moments as she had so often done in the past.

In the distance she heard a siren rise and fall. Its piercing cry brought her back again. The image of broken majesty faded. Kurtis stood before her once again, his shoulders tense as he lowered his shaking hand. He suddenly looked very tired.

"Kurtis…"

Lara raised a hand to his shoulder. He did not acknowledge the gesture, but continued to stare straight ahead.

"I can't go back," he said. "They would ask too many questions. And I don't have any answers for them." An ironic smile touched upon his lips. "As far as they're concerned I should be dead. I _was_ dead. All of that blood… How could I even begin to explain it to them? I can hardly explain it myself."

Lara studied him closely. His smile had disappeared. The expression which replaced it was difficult to read.

"Are you…?" Her voice cracked slightly. "Are you immortal?"

"I don't know," he said honestly. "I feel different." He turned to her. "Do I look different to you?"

For the first time she saw real fear in his eyes. It terrified her more than anything she had witnessed that night. Lara raised her bandaged hand to his face. The pentagram upon his cheek had healed to some extent, although it was now a ghastly shade of white. Lara tenderly brushed her fingers across it. She wondered why he did not simply rid himself of the mark. He had healed deeper cuts with ease.

"You still look the same to me," she murmured. "A little beat up, but I suppose that's to be expected."

Kurtis smiled again.

"I'll choose to take that as a compliment."

She was thankful for the warmth of his hand suddenly enveloping hers, his thumb gently stroking her palm. A moment later her face blanched in pain and she pulled away with a gasp. Concern flickered across his face. Lara merely shook her head.

"During the fight," she explained, gesturing to her arm. "I don't think that it's broken."

Kurtis took this in. He did not say a word as he reached out and took her arm in his hands. Lara grimaced slightly as he turned it over. It was crisscrossed with ugly bruises where she had slammed through the glass-paneled door of the church. Kurtis was silent as he surveyed the damage. She was about to open her mouth to speak when she felt a warm glow traveling through her from her wrist down past the crook of her elbow.

Lara withdrew from his grasp, gazing down at her healed arm in wonder. The bruises disappeared before her eyes. She clenched her fist and flexed the weary muscles. Nothing but a dull ache now remained. She released a sharp intake of breath she did not even realise she had been holding.

"I think I understand now," she said. "Why you didn't bleed to death that night I found you in the snow outside the Strahov." She looked up at him. "This power. It was inside you the whole time. It just needed a reason to wake up."

"You may be right." Kurtis touched a hand to his throat again. "And that tells me how I am still alive, but it doesn't tell me why."

"Maybe there is some higher purpose to all of this."

The mischievous glint returned to his eyes.

"So you do believe in fate after all?"

"I'm not sure what to believe," she said, tugging at the strap of her satchel as it fell across her shoulder. "All I know is that I feel like such an idiot. Everything is a mess. I pushed everyone away. My friends, my family." Her voice faltered as she lowered her eyes. "The people that I love."

Kurtis simply offered her a smile.

"Nothing like facing death to help put things into perspective, huh? I suddenly have this urge to go and look up my mom. Last I heard she was living somewhere in New Mexico."

She returned the smile, thankful for his deflective humour.

"I feel strangely compelled to make a large cash donation to a certain church. But I also have some serious groveling to do. Winston is going to be getting a delivery of flowers for a start."

His voice became serious: "Lara, you shouldn't blame yourself. You went through something horrific. That kind of thing changes a person."

"You're right," she said. "And I'm not going to blame myself. Not anymore."

The sky was now tinged with orange and purple as the sun began to rise over the distant rooftops. It was almost twenty four hours since Lara had arrived in Prague and she was thoroughly exhausted. She approached the edge of the rooftop, reaching out and resting a hand upon the low wall before her. She watched as the snow cascaded down from the night sky and continued to settle upon the roof of the police car below.

"So what do we do now?"

Lara turned and looked at him, considering this question carefully.

"I don't know. I suppose we could wait until the coroners leave, and then-"

"That's not what I meant."

Lara glanced away, her hair clinging resolutely to her face.

"I know," she said.

They stood together in companionable silence for a time, watching the coroners going about their grim work. It occurred to her then that she had witnessed enough death to last a lifetime. This thought sparked another realisation.

"The Lux Veritatis," she said. "You're still the last of that line. The war is over now. The Cabal has disbanded. The Nephilim are gone."

"Hopefully," he pointed out.

"You can make a choice," she told him. "Pass on your powers. Start a new generation of Lux Veritatis. Do things differently than your ancestors. Or you could let the line die with you. The power would be gone." She smiled ironically. "But no pressure or anything."

"And here I was thinking my troubles were over." Kurtis swept his jacket aside and pulled his Boran X from the waistband of his jeans, the one thing he had managed to salvage before escaping his apartment. "I thought it was all lies. It sounded like madness at the time, but it looks like Karel was right. About some things at least."

His hands faltered as Kurtis opened the chamber of the gun, checking the bullets before closing it again with a satisfying click. Lara looked up and met his eyes in that moment. She saw there the same uncertainty she knew was written all over her own face.

"Some things," she echoed.

**XXX**

Lara eventually called a taxi to take her to the airport. The snow was still falling as she pulled on her bomber jacket and rushed down the iron-wrought fire escape at the back of the building, stepping out into another anonymous alley of the city.

The moon was still visible in the sky above, almost overcome by the growing light of dawn. Lara came to a standstill with her arms huddled tightly at her chest. Steam rose from a nearby grate. At the end of the street a lantern still faintly glowed at the edge of darkness. It threw strange shadows across her path and in her mind they formed dark and threatening shapes.

Lara did not like to admit it even to herself, but she had been living with a death wish ever since she had crawled out of her own tomb. She had been stuck living in the past for so long she had forgotten how to cope with the present. But the truth was that even before the first cracks in her public image began to show Lara had been running on empty for many years now.

Lost in her private thoughts she soon heard the sound of footsteps clanging on metal. She turned to watch as Kurtis descended the fire escape after her. He slowed as he stepped down onto the street, one hand hooked across the railing above. He stood there and regarded her without a word. Then he lowered his hand and approached her.

She had been expecting this. She knew that she could not just walk out of his life unseen. Not again.

"No point letting that plane ticket go to waste," she offered as explanation.

He nodded with quiet restraint, coming to a standstill beside her.

As they stood together the wind picked up and swirled about her waist, biting at Lara with icy fingers. She shivered and pulled at the zipper of her bomber jacket, plunging her hands into its deep pockets. Kurtis stood with his eyes cast down and his face half in shadow.

Presently she heard a click as Kurtis made to light a cigarette. This time she gave no objection. He always smoked when he was nervous. She had come to pick up on that. The weak flame illuminated his tired features before it swiftly faded and then died. After a series of futile attempts to catch a light Kurtis abandoned the pretense. He flashed her a self-deprecating smile as he returned the lighter to his pocket.

"Can probably smoke as many of these things as I like." He indicated the cigarette. "Won't make much of a difference."

She watched as he spun the unused cigarette between his fingers before pitching it into a drift of snow.

"Not such a bad habit after all," she pointed out.

The events of the last few days were racing through Lara's mind. It seemed like a lifetime since she had first slipped away from Kurtis' bedside and fled back to England to entomb herself in her own mansion. She thought that she could escape the past. In those long and empty days she had often looked to Werner's notebook for answers. Now she knew that there were no answers for it to give.

Lara took her hands out of her pockets and looked down at the makeshift bandage wrapped about her hand. It was spotted with blood. Death. Desert. Destruction. They all flashed briefly through her mind. She looked to Kurtis at these thoughts. They were still unsure as to the extent of his powers. He had survived twice where a normal man would have bled to death. The question of his mortality still lingered. For her part she knew how she would act in his position - she would not want to know. It was somewhat easier that way.

It did not take long for a taxi to pull up at the end of the alleyway. It came to a rest at a slight angle towards them, its wheels just touching the edge of the curb. Lara looked up and gazed unflinchingly into its headlights. Kurtis did the same.

It was time to say goodbye.

Lara did not protest as Kurtis stepped forwards and reached out to her again, taking her hands in his. The rumbling of the taxi seemed almost deafening as they stood together, looking down at their clasped hands. Kurtis ran a thumb over her bandaged knuckles, his rough hands surprisingly gentle. Lara could feel the desperation building up inside her. She yearned to scream out her need for him, to lose herself in his embrace and turn the taxi away. But she knew that she needed time. They could not help each other to heal if she was still broken inside.

"Lara," he said. His voice was almost lost beneath the rumbling of the taxi's engine. "You know how I feel, how I've always felt. And I won't ask anything of you. This is not about me. It never was. I understand that now. Bit late, I know, but I finally get it." He gave a sigh and looked up to meet her eyes, determined to choke out the words. "And I'm sorry. I really am. When you figure things out I'll still be here waiting."

Lara swallowed with difficulty. Then she let go of his hands and stepped a little closer, the hint of a smile now playing at her lips.

"You might have an eternity," she said. "Can you wait that long?"

Kurtis laughed at this. She did not wait for an answer as she took his face in both hands and kissed him. In the past they had often embraced with reckless abandon and need, but this time he returned her kiss with a tenderness that made her heart ache with longing. He slipped his arms about her waist and pulled her close, reluctant to let her go. Lara was close to tears as she expressed to him in her kiss what was much too painful to say in words. They only broke apart when the taxi driver leant impatiently upon his horn.

Snow continued to drift down from the brightening sky as Lara drew back from the kiss. She kept her eyes closed, her hands now resting upon his chest and her forehead resting lightly against his.

"I guess that's my cue," she murmured.

Kurtis softly exhaled a sigh.

"I guess so."

Lara avoided his gaze, her eyes glistening with tears as she bowed her head and fumbled with the collar of his jacket. His white shirt was still stained with blood.

"I better…" she said.

He nodded.

"I know."

Her hands stilled upon his chest. She could feel his heartbeat fluttering beneath her fingertips as she looked up into his eyes, offering him a weak smile.

"Are you sure that you're going to be okay?"

"Of course," he said brightly. "I'm still alive, aren't I? And so are you. In the end that's all that matters. You can still turn this around. We both can. Just promise me you won't be a stranger. You don't have to do this alone."

Lara considered him warmly.

"I won't be."

And she took one last look at him before she turned away. Kurtis reached out and caught her hand as she went, their fingers remaining laced for a moment before they gently broke apart.

Lara's footsteps echoed as she headed towards the waiting taxi.

**THE END**


End file.
